


Two Oceans, Two Rooms

by princelogical



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Disabled Character, Fairy!AU, Fantasy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelogical/pseuds/princelogical
Summary: Virgil’s dealing with a lot; he’s lost his sister, his leg, and his dad all within a short period of time. Now, all because of his stupid dog, he’s transported into a world much like his own, but with a pretty big difference: Everyone is fairies and most seem to want him dead.He only wanted to find his stupid CD player.





	1. Chapter 1

On a rainy Tuesday evening in May, Virgil found himself lying across his bed, staring at the chipped white ceiling. His dark green comforter was crumbled in a heap at the bottom of the bed where his dog lay atop, snoozing away. Thunder cracked in the background, barely muffling the noise of the loud radio in the hall. For a stormy night, it was about as peaceful as it would get.

“Virgil!” his mom yelled, her voice barely heard above the radio. “Come downstairs and clean the kitchen! I’m leaving in less than two minutes!”

“Okay! Just a minute!” Virgil yelled back. He flipped over and groaned into his pillows. If there was anything he hated doing around the house, it was cleaning the kitchen. Despite its state of nearly never being used (except his frequent visits throughout the day to grab something quick and take it up to his room), it always managed to become the messiest room in the small house. After a few more moments of groaning, he flopped off the bed and began walking downstairs. His mom awaited him, arms crossed across her chest.

“It does not take that long for a seventeen year old to walk down the steps! I’m older than you and I’m quicker than that.”

Virgil sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ll get it done,” he promised. “You can go.”

His mom sighed then smiled at Virgil, her eyes looking glassy and faraway. “You’re a good son.”

Virgil shrugged awkwardly, unsure what to say, but still mumbled out a quiet, “Thanks.” His mom wrapped him in a hug and patted his back warmly.

“Be good.”

“You’re just going to the movies.”

“Still; be good.” She winked and grabbed her purse then walked out the front door, snapping it shut behind her as thunder grumbled distantly. Virgil sighed and walked upstairs, figuring he’d do the kitchen later. Well, to be honest, he knew the most likely thing to happen would be that he wouldn't be coming back to the kitchen before his mom came back, but that didn’t matter.

“Where’s my stupid CD player?” he grunted to himself as he looked across his room.

The old thing had been a gift from his sister before she died two years ago in a car wreck. Car wrecks were one of those things that happened all the time, but people always seemed to be under the impression that it was something they’d never experience. Life likes to screw with those “that’ll never happen to me,” thoughts. Just like Virgil thought his parents would always stay together or he’d never lose his sister or a leg.

With that thought, Virgil eyed his prosthetic attached to the upper part of his left calf with something like disgust. He pretended the false limb didn’t bother him. He pretended he was tough and didn’t care he clanked around with a piece of plastic in place of his old leg. Honestly though, he did care. He hated how he limped, hated how the thing would creak and how the skin would rub until a dark red rash appeared, because his poor mom couldn’t afford a better one and insurance was garbage. Most of all, he hated the comments, the pity, and the few snide remarks from kids who didn’t understand.

He had to be brave; he had to put on a confident face for his mom. It was just the two of them; he couldn’t afford to shut down. Besides, he and his mom were doing just fine together. He didn’t need his dad or anyone else to step in. He had it covered.

Virgil shook himself from his thoughts and looked into his closet, where his mom always put his CD player. She thought it was “helpful” to move his stuff to other places, but truthfully, he found it very irritating. Especially since his closet was a danger zone, a safety risk to all living things.

Well, his entire room was, but his closet was totally worse.

“There it is!” he cried in excitement that perhaps was a little bit unwarranted. His dog padded up beside him, sniffing the CD player then sneezing. “Ew, Rue, gross.” Virgil wiped the thing with his jacket sleeve then frowned and froze. Was the back of his closet glowing or was he losing his mind?

“I’m losing it,” Virgil said. He leaned in closer. It was a small square, big enough to be a small, short door. It glowed a blueish purple, lighting up the entire closet. Virgil slowly reached a hand out and touched it. Upon doing so, Virgil cried out, yanking his hand back as a cutting pain shot through his arm.

The closet began to make a roaring noise and Virgil tried to crawl back, stumbling over Rue who began barking. At first Virgil thought he had to be going insane, but there it was, in front of his eyes, a square of his closet, drawing itself inward.

“Are you kidding me?” Virgil yelled as wind began whipping through his room from the square. Rue knocked Virgil the rest of the way to the floor and jumped through the square, barking like mad all the way. Virgil gave a cry of frustration and forced himself upright and began crawling after Rue.

He didn’t expect the inside of the square to be so dark, but it was; worse yet, it wasn’t quite a normal darkness either. It was a horrible cold sort that made one feel like they were closer to death than life. Virgil tried to crawl backward to get back into his room, but he was hit with a solid wall behind him. He still heard Rue barking, the only thing that led him to go on forward; he tried to follow the sound of Rue’s angry barking.

After a long while of crawling, his legs and arms began to cramp. Virgil had tried several times to back up, but the farther he went forward, the wall only closed in on him more. He wanted to give up, but he still heard Rue barking every so often and that kept him crawling on. If he lost that dog, his mom would probably kill him; that anxiety was almost worse than the anxiety of death.

Finally, Virgil slammed into a wall of fur. Then a wet tongue lapped over his face rapidly. He heard Rue let out another loud bark then an even louder whine. After she finished her little ritual, she laid down in front of Virgil. He reached his hand forward. Wall. He kicked back with his right leg. Wall. He screamed in panic and frustration. The air seemed to grow colder and he shivered, even through his thick, dark hoodie. The urge to cry or something stupid like that was building up fast along with the familiar urge to panic.

He remembered the words of his disaster safety class. “Don’t panic. Panicking only makes it worse and harder to think.” Yeah, great advice. How to _not_ panic was beyond Virgil at that point. In frustration, he punched the wall in front of him, barely missing a very pissed off Rue, who jerked away, as if afraid of being hit herself.

The wall shoved inward with the impact of his fist, revealing a rectangular opening on the floor. Virgil cried out in joy and Rue gave a happy little bark. She trotted forward and before Virgil could stop her, she jumped through the floor where the wall used to cover. It was almost in slow motion as she fell through the hole and Virgil winced as he heard her whimper upon the impact. Virgil shivered then scooted forward to look down the large hole in the floor. Rue laid on a patch of concrete below on her left side. She whined pitifully.  

“Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no,” he chanted. What was he supposed to do? What _could_ he do? It wasn’t like he had many options. It was basically jump down below or sit up in the crammed space for all of eternity. Virgil sighed, squeezed his eyes tightly shut then jumped through the floor.

He cried out in pain as he made the impact on the solid ground, barely missing Rue. It was pure luck alone that he didn’t smash his head, but that didn’t mean slamming his tailbone and wrist into concrete was that fun either. He heard a cry of surprise then somebody running. The sun beat down in his aching body, but he felt colder than he’d ever felt before.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked. Virgil looked up and saw a boy with floppy light brown hair and concern painted over his features. Virgil blinked as if the site of the boy’s freaking _prince outfit_ and a sword which strung around his hips would vanish and maybe Virgil would feel a little less out of his mind. No such luck. The boy’s wide eyes roamed over Virgil and the dog worriedly.

Then, Virgil caught sight of the most disconcerting sight of all; the guy had huge, delicate looking, red wings spanning widely from his back. Virgil sat up quickly, heart racing.  

“Where am I? What just happ-”

“Hey, you’re fine!” the guys promised, crouching down to begin examining Rue. The wings twitched and Virgil flinched. The guy smiled, charmingly so. “It’s okay, relax. Name’s Roman. You are?”

“Virgil,” Virgil grunted out, wincing in pain.

“ _Virgil_ ,” Roman said, stretching out the name on his tongue like an odd taste. “Odd name.”

“Better than Roman,” Virgil grumbled, momentarily forgetting the situation around him for the sake of defending the little honor his name still had.

“Roman is a perfectly wonderful and acceptable name,” Roman said, looking offended. “Do you think you can stand?” he asked as he inspected Rue’s rib cage. He gave Virgil an expectant look then Rue whined and bit at Roman’s fingers. Roman withdrew them quickly and snapped his index finger and thumb together. Some sort of red, glittery substance flew from his thumbs into Rue’s face. She laid back against the concrete, her eyes looking distant. He began stroking her fur calmly, as if he hadn’t just done the oddest thing Virgil had ever seen.

“What did you do to my dog?” Virgil snapped.

“Just calmed her down a bit. Can you stand?” Roman asked again.

“Did you hurt her?” Virgil asked frantically, leaning over the big black husky. She was still breathing, though much slower. He ran his hands over her fur. She whined as his hands grazed over her ribs.

“I think they’re broken,” Roman explained. “She’ll need to see a vet. Can you stand?”

Virgil ignored his question again. “It’s so cold- she’s probably cold too. I need to make her warm. I-”

“Virgil- I need to see if you can stand.” Roman’s voice was growing concerned. “Don’t worry about your dog; she’ll be fine. Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine! Why is it so cold?” Virgil cried.

Roman’s eyebrows knitted together. “Virgil-“

“Ugh! She’s in pain! How can-” Tears began to make Virgil’s eyesight misty. Everything felt constricting and Virgil’s chest felt too tight.

“We need to get you two to see the medic. I think you’re in shock or something. And I don’t know if you hit your head or not...”

“Why is it so cold?” Virgil snapped.

“Human body temperatures,” Roman murmured, almost as if speaking a reminder to himself. “Can you stand?” he asked for what seemed to be the fiftieth time.

This time, Virgil decided to try to answer. He pushed himself up and tried to stand then found the support of his left leg no longer under him. Roman caught him as he stumbled forward and helped him up. Virgil heard the clank of plastic on the concrete and groaned.

“Why did that stupid thing have to fall off?” he snapped. Roman looked at the ground where Virgil’s prosthetic laid. He raised his eyebrows slightly, but didn’t say anything and picked it up.

Virgil’s wits were slowly coming back to him and with them came the embarrassment of looking like a confused and scared child. “I can get it back on,” Virgil mumbled. He sat back on the ground and fixed the prosthetic back on his calf and then carefully stood up, trying to ignore the dizziness and throbbing from his wrists and tailbone. “What about Rue?” he asked, feeling too sluggish for comfort.

“Rue? I- OH! The dog? I’ll call my friend Logan to come get her. She’s fine.” Roman examined Virgil’s face carefully then added, “You’re fine.” He grinned as if that made everything better.

“Where am I?” Virgil asked. “I was in my bedroom like-” He paused, realizing he’d completely lost track of how much time had passed. He raked a hand over his face, then continued saying, “I have no idea. Where am I?”

“You’re fine.”

“That is not what I asked,” Virgil said, exasperated.

“Listen, you don’t need to worry about that. We just need to get you to a medic before-”

“Before what?”

“Before- Hey- you look really pale, man.”

It was that moment Virgil’s vision blurred together and he found himself falling forward. Roman barely caught him before he face planted on the concrete.

“Woah. Uh- Try not to fall asleep- I think you might have a head injury. Patton’ll have to look you over.”

Virgil tried to explain that he hadn’t hit his head, but he was feeling too dizzy and nauseous to speak. So all he could really get out was, “It really hurts.”

“I’m sure it does.” Roman’ voice sounded terribly muffled. Virgil’s body was beginning to grow heavier; it was a huge effort to support himself, even with Roman’ arms somewhat supporting him upright. He faintly heard somebody talking, something like a phone dialing, and then a gust of wind. The wind whipped into his face, startling his eyes open.

“Can’t have you passing out on me,” Roman said simply. He began walking down the sidewalk, Virgil trying to keep himself supported with Roman’s body as they made their way to a circle of tall buildings. Roman went up to the smallest and pushed open the glass door.

They were in a small lobby with several waiting chairs. A large desk sat in the corner of the room, where a guy wearing a polo and a cardigan tied around his shoulders sat, smiling at a computer screen. He too had wings similar to Roman’s, though they were a pale blue and appeared sturdier than Roman’s.

“Patton?” Roman asked, walking to the desk, still supporting Virgil. The guy looked up, taking in the sight of Roman and Virgil.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton said. He looked to Virgil again. “Is he a human?”

Roman nodded. “I would take him underground, but walking through town into the paths to sneak him through would be too… you know.”

“I know what you mean,” Patton said. “Don’t worry; I’ll have him in and out as fast as possible.” Patton stood up and slipped his hand into his pants pocket. He pulled out a small black pouch, which he unzipped and pulled a needle from. “What’s your name, kiddo?” Patton asked, looking at Virgil.

“Virgil.”

“Okay, Virgil. Just relax.” Patton pushed the needle into Virgil’s arm, through his hoodie. Virgil gasped and tried to jerk back, but Roman just tightened his grip.

“Hey, you’re fine,” Roman assured. Virgil was growing annoyed of those words. “Calm down. Logan’s got Rue and he’s taking her to his clinic. She’s in good hands. Logan is great with animals. Maybe not with people, but with animals.” Roman laughed, as if he’d just made some ridiculous form of a joke. Virgil’s body fell limp and to his embarrassment, he collapsed into Roman’ chest. “You’ll be back home in no time, dude. The officers won’t even know you’re here.”

And with those unsettling words, Virgil’s heavy eyes finally slid shut and he was aware of nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

Virgil was awakened by the loudest clap of thunder he had ever heard in his life. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest and his entire body was sticky with sweat. Feeling oddly nervous, he sat up, pushing himself up with the heels of his hands. The storm outside raged on and he shivered in the cold room. He adjusted himself then paused, noticing something abnormal.

He was lying on the floor in his closet.

Mentally freaked out, Virgil quickly stood up and stretched out his aching muscles. He felt like he’d been dropped out of a four story window and then thrown in a freezer. Besides the thunder outside, the house was eerily quiet except the radio still playing. He moved slowly and groggily to go in the hallway and shut it off, then froze. Where was Rue?

“Rue!” he yelled. He looked across his small room. No sign of her.

With a groan of frustration, he limped around the house calling out Rue’s name. He looked in the kitchen (which he ended up cleaning while he was at it), the living room, his mom’s room (she’d kill him if she knew he stepped one foot in there), and his room again, then in the two bathrooms. He was left with no success; he couldn’t find her anywhere.

“God, mom is going to kill me,” he moaned, shoving down his own worry and concern at losing his pet. He looked at the clock on his wall and groaned, rubbing his face angrily. 1:00AM. His mom would be home any minute to grill him for losing Rue.

He sat down on his bed with a quiet _thump_ , ignoring the ache in his legs as he did so. He peeled off his thick hoodie and set it on his bed beside him. Clasping his hands together, he leaned forward and stared at his forearms. As soon as he did so, he really wished he hadn’t. One long scar ran from his elbow to his wrist on his left arm. The scar was both pink and puffy. He had no idea what it was from, yet a memory seemed to be tugging at his head, as if begging for him to recall it. But he couldn’t. Though he tried so hard, he couldn’t recall anything. He was in his closet than… nothing.

With a start, he heard his mom pulling in the driveway. He quickly shoved the hoodie back on (his mom would freak if she saw some unexplainable scar on his arm with everything going on), and made his way down the stairs, anxious to get the lecture about losing the dog done and over with. He heard the door unlocking and his mom made her way inside, shutting the door behind her. She smiled when she saw Virgil, hands stuffed in his pockets, nervously craning his neck.

“Hey, honey. Wow, the house didn’t burn down,” she said with a little giggle. His stomach twisted anxiously. She set her purse down on the table. “The kitchen looks nice. Good job.”

“Uhm, yeah. Thanks. I uh-. Yeah.”

His mom nodded then frowned. “Where’s Rue?”

“Uhm,” he coughed awkwardly, “she… I was walking her and she ran away. I couldn’t find her,” he lied, figuring it was better to say that than, “Hey mom! Yeah, I fell asleep in my closet and Rue disappeared for no reason. Oh, and now I have some mysterious scar on my arm. Whoops!”

A crestfallen look fell over his mom’s face. “Oh no. I’m so sorry, Virgil.” She wrapped her arms tightly around Virgil.

Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Virgil mumbled. “I should have been more careful walking her.”

“It’s not your fault. She’s run away before; she’ll come back. She’s a good dog.”

Virgil couldn’t help but worry she wouldn’t be coming back, but he didn’t speak his worries aloud, just swallowed the lump in his throat down enough to talk. “Thanks… I’m going to hit the hay,” he said awkwardly and gently pried himself from her arms.

“Okay, sweetheart. I have to be in to work before you wake up, so I’ll see you after school tomorrow.”

“Okay, mom. Night.”

“Night.” Virgil smiled softly and then made his way back to his room. He fell backward onto his bed, closing his eyes tiredly. Why did he feel so weak? And exhausted? And… just thoroughly beat, mentally and physically? He sighed and crawled into bed, not bothering to take off his clothes or prosthetic. It would hurt like hell in the morning, but he didn’t care. He pulled the covers over himself and sighed, trying not to begin thinking to the point he couldn’t sleep like he usually did.

Virgil was close to falling asleep when he heard a whimper that sounded nearly identical to Rue’s. Quickly, he sat up and hastily scrambled as best as he could out of the bed. The whimper sounded again, as if coming from his closet. He made his way slowly to the closet and slid it open.

A square of the wall was glowing a light blueish purple colour. He felt a strong sense of déjà vu as the closet began to grumble and the square of glowing closet began to go inward. He stumbled backward, eyes wide in confusion and fear.

“What the heck?” he muttered as he crawled over to the hole now in the wall. He crouched forward into the hole and stumbled over completely into the wall. He grunted as he landed on his face. Pushing himself up, he began to crawl forward a bit. After crawling for a few minutes, he felt a wall in front of him. He moved backward. Another wall.

Suddenly, it was like somebody had ripped the dam from Virgil’s head and all memories from Virgil’s mind flooded through his brain. He remembered the passage, how he and Rue had fallen and how he was injured; he remembered Roman and Patton and- Everything. It was all coming to him at once.

Virgil didn’t want to go back; even if Rue was somehow still stuck below, he did not want to go back. He banged against the wall behind him, trying to turn himself in the direction forcefully. It wasn’t working. No matter how hard he tried, he knew deep down, he could only go forward. Where he didn’t want to go.

Great.

With a muffled scream, he shoved the wall in front of him. It slid forward and revealed the ground below, though this time, it wasn’t concrete below. It was a bed. Virgil couldn’t believe his luck. This time he proceeded with much more caution as he slid down to the place below. Despite his caution, his hands slipped and he fell onto the floor right beside the bed.

“Great,” he mumbled, trying to stand up and ignore the pain in his body from the impact.

He heard running and someone making their way to the room. Looking around frantically, he saw a small closet. Perfect.

He scrambled and dove into it, barely shutting the door before the person entered the room. His heart thudded loudly in his chest and Virgil was afraid, no matter how illogical it seemed, that the person could hear it.

“Hello?” a familiar voice called. Virgil’s eyes widened. It was Patton’s. He pressed himself farther into the closet and accidentally smacked his head on a rack above his head holding several shoe boxes. Just as he was thinking it was stupid and impractical to have so many shoe boxes, they all crashed to the ground around him. He heard footsteps making their way to the closet and he held his breath. The doorknob twisted then the door yanked open.

Patton stood, wearing the same jeans, polo, and cardigan as before. His wings twitched from behind him as his eyes widened at the sight of Virgil.

“What’re you doing?” Patton asked.

“Uhm… Looking for my dog?” Virgil tired hesitantly. “And uh…” he bent over, trying to scoop up the shoe boxes, each holding not one, not two, but _three_ pairs of shoes. Who needed so many shoes? “Admiring the shoes?”

Patton smiled, though it looked forced and slightly sad. “You shouldn’t have come back, kiddo.”

“I wasn’t trying to!” Virgil snapped.

Patton sighed. “The drug should have wiped your memory… How did you remember?”

“I don’t know,” Virgil said. “I didn’t mean to come back. I was looking for Rue and I… thought I heard her in my closet, but my stupid closet started _glowing_ and then I remembered and… yeah. I feel through the hole.”

“Okay,” Patton said. He gestured for Virgil to exit the closet, which he did, still guarded and cautious. He set down the boxes of shoes on the ground. Patton crouched over to grab them.

“Can I just grab my dog and go back?” Virgil asked, looking around the room as if Rue would be hiding somewhere, perhaps under the bed. Hey, he couldn’t rule anything out.

“Well,” Patton mumbled, beginning to sound uncomfortable, “I can try to get your dog, but she’s currently,” his voice dropped, “locked up…”

“Locked up?” Virgil asked blankly.

Patton rubbed the back of his neck and said slowly, “Well… All species from the upper world are… imprisoned and used for… erm, experiments.”

“What?” Virgil snapped, trying to conceal the panic rising in him. “No… What?”

“Roman wanted to get you and your dog out as soon as possible… before the officers found you. Unfortunately, they confiscated the dog from Logan… And took it.”

“No!” Virgil cried. “I need her! My mom needs her! She- I want my dog back!” Virgil hated getting so upset, but he couldn’t help it. Despite all his grumblings about the dog, he really did care for her and the idea of her being used for experiments filled him with a smothering panic. He just wanted Rue so he could get back to his semi-normal life.

“Hey, calm down,” Patton soothed gently. “We’ll try to get your dog, okay? So long as you stay out of sight, we’ll have your dog back by tomorrow and you can go home.”

“Tomorrow!” Virgil yelped. “I need to leave now! My mom’ll panic, jump to conclusions! She might think I ran away or-“

“We’ll get everything under control, Virgil. Okay? Take a deep breath, kiddo”

Virgil took a shuddering breath. “Okay, okay. Whatever. I just better get my stupid dog back,” he snapped.

Patton nodded. “You will. Promise. Let me check you for injuries-“

“No, I’m okay. I uh- fell on the bed this time,” he lied.

Patton smiled softly. “Better than the concrete, eh?”

Virgil nodded, pulling a smile to match. “Yeah.”

“Come downstairs with me and we can figure out where your dog is. What’s her name- Rue?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said following Patton down a long hallway and a long spiral stair case.

“That’s cute.”

“Yeah, mom named her after the girl from the Hunger Games.”

“Hm? What’s that?” Patton asked with a frown.

“Oh, it’s a- uh, a book.”

“Oh. Never heard of it,” Patton said. He opened a large set of double doors to show a large room with a huge table in the middle. Roman sat at a seat arguing loudly with another boy wearing a black dress shirt and neatly pressed blue tie; he had glasses like Patton’s, as well as wings. However, unlike Roman’s or Patton’s, this guy’s wings were simple; they were black, thick, with tiny white squares across them. They shone like something metallic.

Roman snapped his mouth shut when he saw Virgil and Patton. “We’ll finish later,” Roman snapped at the guy. He made some odd gesture with his hand then focused on Virgil and Patton.

“What’re you doing back?” Roman asked, eyebrows knitted together, the same look of confusion he had given Virgil when he found him on the concrete. “You shouldn’t be back.”

“I was looking for my dog-“

“Rue?” the guy at the table asked. Virgil looked over and nodded. He stood up and stuck out his hand; Virgil wondered if it were possible for someone to stand that straight. “Hello, my name is Logan. You must be Virgil.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, shaking his hand.

Roman looked over Virgil once more then said, “You shouldn’t be back… The officers’ll know a portal was used. They’ll send lookouts.”

“We’ll use our underground passage to hide him,” Patton said. “We can say we’ve been out and he must have left the house.”

Roman didn’t look convinced then said, “Fine. I’ll take him there.”

Patton nodded and Roman gestured for Virgil to follow, which he did.

“Where is this place?” Virgil asked as he followed Roman out of the room and down a long hallway.

“A house? Isn’t that what you call it where you humans are from?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “But like… this is another world or something.”

“Kind of, yeah.” Roman placed his hand against a random wall. The wall beeped and slid aside to reveal a dark hallway. Roman walked in and Virgil followed. “Is it different from the humans?”

“I- I haven’t seen much of it, but not really.”

“Hm. How’d you lose your leg?”

Virgil felt startled by the question. Most people weren’t so bold. “Well… I was in a car crash.”

“Car?”

“Uhm, thing you travel in.”

“Oh, like… walking?”

“Kind of… farther though.”

“Hm. Cool,” Roman commented. “How’d the leg come off?”

Virgil ran his left hand over his right arm self-consciously. “I wasn’t wearing a seat belt and flew forward. My leg got crushed under a bunch of debris.”

“Wow. That sucks.” They kept walking in silence until they reached a door. Roman tapped on it. “You go in here and there’s a bedroom. Stay in here until somebody comes to get you. Once you get your dog, we’ll send you and her back up.”

“One question,” Virgil said. “You talk about me being human… like you and the others here aren’t. But you look human, besides your erm… wings.”

Roman grinned. “Fairies,” he explained. “That’s what we are. We’ve been around forever and humans have created tons of legends about us… At least, they used to. We were cut off from the human world a long time ago. We deemed humans as dangerous and decided to shut down the portals that linked to the human world.” Roman caught the look on Virgil’s face. “I don’t think humans are dangerous… neither do my friends. You can trust us.”

“If you shut the portals, how am I here?”

“When they went to shut the portals down, not all could be shut down. The portals are living things like us and not all cooperate, so they open up whenever.” Roman shrugged casually, as if to say, _typical portals, am I right?_ “The officers decided to take leaked humans and use them to study the species…” Roman began to look a little nervous. “Though their methods are quite terrible… The experiments have made them come to the conclusion the living beings from your world are a risk to ours.”

“Why do the officers think that?” Virgil asked.

“Not all officers,” Roman said defensively. “I’m an officer… I try to get the humans back to their world, but I have to keep a very heavy cover.”

“Wow,” Virgil muttered. “What will they do to Rue?”

“Don’t think about it,” Roman said. A ring sounded from his pocket and he pulled out a phone. “Hello? No… Okay. I’ll be up.” He shoved the phone in his pocket then turned to Virgil urgently. “Go in the room. Do NOT come out. I’ll answer any more questions when I come back- or Logan will. He’s a huge nerd.” Roman turned and ran down the hall, disappearing into the darkness.

Virgil turned to the door and took a deep breath as he opened it and walked inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides in clutching box of frozen waffles* I actually updated on time for once! I know, I know, pretty groundbreaking for me.
> 
> Sooo, I'm trying this thing where I don't dump my insecurities in my author's notes anymore, so I'm just gonna let the chapter speak for itself. Let me know what you think!! Critiques, comments, your favourite flavour of ice cream... it's all appreciated! I seriously love talking to you all. :)
> 
> P.S. I hope you guys don't mind my new bi-monthly updating schedule (So a new chapter every two weeks), that I've applied to all my stories. It's much easier for me than updating every week. 
> 
> OH! And The Mistakes Of Evil is on hiatus. Sorry, my dudes, I've just been having such a hard time with that story rn and I think stepping back will help. 
> 
> So... if anyone is STILL reading this rambley author's note, I hope you have a lovely day/night or whatever. God bless. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dun dun DUN

The inside of the room was like a small guest bedroom, not unlike the one Virgil used to stay at in his grandma’s house. Though that was quite some time ago, when his mom and father were still together.

Thinking of those times were painful. Painful, because they were the happiest bits of his entire life. But his stupid dad had to be a coward and walk out when he was 13. He didn’t talk to any of them until the car crash came about. Then he tried to play the caring parent card. He offered to pay the medical bills, offered to pay for Virgil to see a therapist (an offer Virgil was quick to refuse- he didn’t need some head shrink poking around), and even offered to come stay back with him and his mom again.

He remembered the 4AM discussion, his mom screaming into the phone, crying. _You don’t talk to us for years then you decide once one of us is gone, NOW we’re worth something? We don’t need your pity money._ Virgil agreed with every word his mother said. They didn’t need him walking into their lives when it benefitted him. They didn’t need things to be harder than they already were. Above all, they didn’t need him. They’d done well enough with just his mom.

Virgil sighed and tried to push the thoughts aside. They hurt to even think about, let alone dwell upon. He went back to studying the room. There was a small bed, a dresser, a small door by that dresser and a large trunk at the foot of the bed. Virgil decided, screw it, let’s explore.

He started with the bed. It was very simple; just a plain wooden bed with a curved wood headboard and footboard. Pale blue sheets stretched across the too-soft mattress and large purple comforter spilt across the edges of the bed. Three heavy pillows laid beside the headboard, with pastel pink pillow cases covering all three.

He moved on the dresser (conveniently skipping the door, he wouldn’t touch that, ~~maybe later though~~ no sir), which was plain wooden, like the bed. Upon opening the drawers, he discovered it simply contained more bedsheets as well as two comforters. The bottom drawer, however, held an assortment of strangely bound books with titles in a language Virgil did not know.

Each book looked hand-bound, as though done with a needle and thread. The pages were the same texture as the bedsheets and the covers were the texture of finely cut stone. He opened them to find the contents were also handwritten and in the same language he didn’t understand. Not only could he not speak it, but it also looked unfamiliar, as if he’d never seen it in his life. And he’d seen plenty of languages; you do your research when the school offers over fifty language courses.

Deciding the books were a lost cause (though they intrigued him greatly), he moved on to the trunk. The thing was also made of wood (surprise), and covered in a thick coat of dust. Virgil unbolted the clip that held the lid and chest together. Inside of the chest held one small sheet of paper. Without thinking, Virgil reached in, picked it up and began unfolding it.

Big mistake.

As soon as he undid the last fold, he felt as if he had been injected with poison. His body began to burn then a feeling as if his lungs were being crushed came over him. He desperately tried to stifle the cries of pain that were begging to slip from his lips. Nails seemed to be hammering into his head along with a loud siren-like noise roaring in his ears. His body shook with the pain and his knees buckled. He hit the floor in an ungraceful lump.

Then, just like that, the pain stopped. Though his body still shook from the aftermath, he was glad to have relief. However, he had celebrated a little too soon; the stupid paper decided it wasn’t done torturing him. He wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or just another part of the paper’s ruthless maltreatment, but before he could gather his wits, his vision was yanked from him.

Slowly, his mind began to conjure images. Once they came into focus, he decided he’d rather have the pain. For the scene in front of him wasn’t some unrealistic dreamy haze. It was a reality, one he’d faced once and then shoved down where he’d never think about ever again.

His sister’s death.

The scene wasn’t some first person point of view stuff like most of his dreams, no. It was third person. He watched on as his slightly younger self sat in a chair next to his mother and stared at his sister. She was lying on a hospital bed, many tubes in her nose and mouth. His mother was giving him some abridged version of what was going on.

“She alive, sweetheart, but it’s her brain-” His mother choked down a sob. “She’s not going to make it.”

“Why are going to have them turn off the machines?” Virgil snapped. “You’re just going to let her die?” Tears shone in his eyes.

Virgil felt anger at his younger self building up. Of course the stupid paper was showing him one of his worst moments in history. Of all terrible, crappy, no-good moments in his life, it had to show him _this_.

“She… wouldn’t want this,” his mother croaked. “Please, Virgil-“

“Screw you! She’s your daughter! You want her dead?”

“No, Virgil-“

“You got us in this! I don’t have a leg anymore! And now she’s gonna die? HOW CAN YOU BE SO HORRIBLE?”

“Virgil…”

“SHUT UP!”

Watching on, Virgil wanted to smack himself as he watched his mother burst into tears. He’d managed to bury this part of everything down; deep deep _deep_ down. He’d always hated the way he treated his mom, adding on to the self-blame she was carrying. Of course he’d apologized, but he’d already planted the seeds in his mother. His mother watered them until they grew into grand plants of self-hatred and guilt.

Oh, how much damage a few words can do.

Virgil wanted _out_. Out of this… stupid, dream, flashback… whatever it was. He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t move. He was forced to watch his mother sob and his younger self look on with wide eyes, full of terror and shame.

Then, like someone flicking off the television in the middle of a movie, the flashback cut off. He was back in the room. He gasped into the dim room and covered his mouth to keep from screaming. Panting, he managed to throw the paper as far away from himself as he possibly could. That didn’t feel like enough. He crawled across the floor, grabbed the paper with his sleeve and threw it back into the trunk and latched it back up, shaking all the way.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling sweat glistening at his eyes and soaking onto his fingertips. It ran down his shaking hands and onto the floor.

 _Pull yourself together, Virgil,_ he reminded himself sternly. _You just need to get the dog and get home before everything falls apart. Like it always does._

With a deep sigh, he shoved himself off the floor and made his way to the door beside the dresser. Nothing could be worse than that paper, he figured. Might as well check it out. He opened the door and found it led down a long hallway. No lights were in sight; the only light being from the dim room, which only cast light for about three feet.

Virgil grunted. No thanks. He shut the door and made his way over to the bed where he flopped down. He was exhausted, terrified and confused about everything. Not to mention his mom was probably freaking out by now, wondering where Virgil had gone. First Rue and now her son. His mother, the best person he could ever know had the most rotten luck in the history of the world.

He closed his eyes and hoped with every fiber of his being that his mom would be able to get on without him for now. He’d always tried to picture what it’d be like for her if he wasn’t there. His dad walking out, then his sister’s death… then losing him. Sometimes Virgil felt like the only reason he kept going was so his mom would keep going. Otherwise, he figured it would be a lot easier to do something rash like offing himself.

Wow, funny how all the dark thoughts he’d managed to push away for the longest time were seemingly flooding back all at once. He just wanted a break- for his and his mom’s sake. And Rue’s. Stupid little Rue.

With that thought, he fell into a deep sleep that was no more pleasant than reality.

+++

His dreams started just like they usually did; his foot was stuck underneath a crushing weight and he was screaming into the chaos; crying out that he couldn’t feel it, couldn’t move it and couldn’t get it _out_. His sister wasn’t moving. Her lifeless body was sprawled across the backseats, blood pouring from her lips. Virgil had no idea where his mother was, if she was okay or if she was even there anymore.

When it seemed it was just going to be the same normal dream, it shifted to an unfamiliar and strange scene. He was lying restrained by his wrists, ankles, middle and forehead on a metal table. A man wearing a surgical uniform stood over him, smirking.

The man had shaggy grey hair and under his scrubs, you could see a too-tight black suit. His green eyes were cold. His eyes looked over Virgil as if looking over a delicious meal.

“My, my, Roman got me a very fascinating one this time! I’ve never seen one with a fake leg before.” The man ripped at the prosthetic leg. Obviously, it didn’t give. Virgil spit in the man’s face. He glowered angrily down at Virgil. Virgil yanked at his restraints. Panic filled his entire body.

“This is why humans have been cut off; they are… evil and abominations! Trying to terrorize us; ruin our peaceful society!” The man made a fist and punched Virgil in the stomach with so much force, it felt as if the fist went straight through him.

Virgil tried to open his mouth and scream, but just as in most dreams, no sound came out. The man cackled and pulled out a thin scalpel. “You’ll regret ever coming after that stupid animal,” the man hissed and then the dream shifted once more.

He was sitting across from a woman- she looked in her mid-thirties with dirty blonde hair. It was pulled up in a loose bun. Her clothes were tight and professional- all black. She sat in a large black chair behind a wooden desk gazing at Virgil intently. She tapped her thick glasses then slid them off carefully.

“How are you today?”

“I’m fine.”

“How do you feel?”

“Fine?”

“Has anything happened you would like to discuss with me?”

“No, thank you.”

“Virgil, you’re not telling me the truth.”

“I am,” Virgil said. For some reason, he really _needed_ this woman to believe him. Her stormy blue eyes raked across his face them back to where her glasses were lying on her desk in front of her. She coughed then looked back to Virgil with a face void of emotion.

“I’m afraid you’re never going to see your mother again.”

“You can’t do that!” Virgil cried. He stood up and then the floor fell through and he was back with the man.

He opened his mouth, but instead of the man’s voice, it was his fathers. “You need to do this for me, Virgil. For me and your mother. You want her to be happy, don’t you?”

“I-I do…”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

“Because-“

His father disappeared and then Virgil was falling, screaming as he felt like his body was being burned from the inside out. It felt like something was under his skin, needing to get _outoutout_. Nails dug into his arms, ripping skin, blood sliding out, but it wasn’t enough; it would _never be enough_.

With a gasp, Virgil shot up in the bed, soaked completely in sweat. His sleeves were shoved up to his elbows with nails marks across the skin. Virgil inwardly cursed. He had gone _so long_ without waking up ripping his skin apart. He took a few deep breaths, raking his hands across his face.

After a few minutes of Virgil sitting trying to calm his erratic breathing, the door opened and the dim room was overwhelmed with light. Roman stood in the doorway.

“Hey, we need to have a meeting upstairs… Wow, are you okay?”

Roman’ eyes seemed to glow with concern from across the small room. They were too bright. Way too _bright._

“I’m fine.” Virgil stood up then stumbled slightly. He forced himself to balance then make his way to the door. “Lead the way.”

Roman looked over Virgil and in his eyes, Virgil read disbelief, worry, and frustration. “Okay. You sure you’re-”

“I’m fine,” Virgil snapped. Roman raised his eyebrows. Virgil managed a smile. “What uh, were you able to get convince the officers I’m not here?”

Roman looked grimly at Virgil then said slowly, “That’s what we need to have a meeting about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're insecure 'bout your writing and are always struggling to post things bc you're afraid it's stupid say heyyyy. (heyyy)
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back? mmmmm Back again? This nerd's back. Back again.

Virgil followed Roman up and back to the large room with the table in the middle. Logan and Patton sat at the table, Logan with his face on top of a pile of papers who looked as if he were in a deep sleep. Patton looked up as the two walked over to the table. Roman sat down and Virgil took that as his cue to sit down as well. Patton gently bumped Logan. He didn’t stir.

“I’ll take care of it,” Roman said. Virgil raised an eyebrow. Roman had the same devilish grin his sister would get when she was planning something. She’d smirk like that then sometimes shoot Virgil a wink when she was planning something mischievous.

 _What could go wrong, Virge? I’m an angel, mom says so._ Then she’d go and do something the opposite of angelic, leaving Virgil unsure whether to laugh or scold her.

He pushed the thought out of his head and went back to observation mode. Roman stood over Logan and slowly lowered his lips to his ear. Then with the loudest shout Virgil had heard in years, Roman yelled, “WAKE UP!”

Logan jerked up, one of the papers sticking to his face for a short second then falling to his lap. For a few seconds he looked frazzled and sleepy; quite similar to a puppy. But then he adjusted his glasses and glared at Roman.

“That was ridiculous and pointless,” he grumbled.

“Hey, Patton tried,” Roman defended as he went to sit down. “Okay, first order of business; that’s Logan, which you knew, Patton, which you _also_ knew. And I’m Roman, the most important.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, but to the _important_ stuff.” He focused his eyes on Virgil. “Your dog is under a significant amount of security due to the fact your dog is a breed they’ve never seen before. They’re eager to study it.” Logan’s voice remained calm and smooth the entire time, the complete opposite of Virgil’s erratic heartbeat.

“They’ve never seen a husky before?” Virgil asked.

Logan smiled wryly. “No, not in years, which one would typically consider a good thing. However, considering you need this dog, it is not. It will require a strenuous effort to get her back. I would estimate approximately a week to set up a plan, execute the pl-”

Virgil’s heart seemed to stop. “A week?” Virgil asked. He tried to keep his voice solid and not shaky, but the way the four were looking at him- he could tell his façade wasn’t working. “I can’t be gone from my mom that long.”

“Hopefully it won’t be that long,” Patton jumped in quickly. “But we have to take all aspects of the situation into consideration. Your dog is under high security. We _can_ send you back without her-”

“Not an option,” Virgil said firmly. “Then I’d have come back here for nothing.” He didn’t mention the fact that the stupid thing practically kept him and his mom sane.

Patton nodded. “Besides that, they’ve tightened security around here because of the fact you came through a portal in an officer’s home-”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said. “I didn’t-“

“It’s fine.” Patton’s brown eyes seemed to be searing into his soul from across the table. Virgil shifted his eyes to the middle of the table. “The detectives and officers are going nuts because so many leaked humans haven’t been caught. Usually Roman is able to work out explanations. He’s very trusted with the system.”

The statement made Virgil uneasy. If Roman was trusted that much by a system that experimented on humans… _hated_ humans, how could he trust him?

“But with your case,” Roman said, “we had to make something up and say that you managed to escape. We’re in code red; they think that you’re roaming the streets.”

“How do you return me back to… my place?” Virgil asked.

“It’s a complicated process,” Logan said.

“And it’s kind of hard to explain without demonstrating,” Roman finished.

“Ah.” Virgil slowly gathered the courage to ask another question. “So, how are we gonna get Rue back?”

“Logan’s gonna figure out a way,” Patton said. “You’re on find-a-way-to-break-Rue-out duty, kiddo. Right?”

“Yes,” Logan said. He picked up the papers he had been laying on then began sifting through them. “It will be a difficult task, but I’ll be able to get in. Without suspicion will be the problem.”

“And after you’ve got Rue, you’ll be able to go home,” Patton said. His bright eyes were so… _bright_. Kind of like a hopeful child’s.

“Exactly,” Logan said. “Until we are able to successfully obtain your dog you can stay down in the underground passages.”

“Shouldn’t I help you guys or something? It’s my fault this whole thing happened anyway…”

Patton, Logan and Roman all stared at him with perplexed expressions. After a few minutes, Roman burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Virgil asked, frustration filling his body.

“You,” Roman choked out.

Logan rolled his eyes again and sighed in annoyance. “I think what he finds amusing is that it’s not your fault,” Logan said. “Humans fall through the portals all the time; some of them leave stuff behind. They usually aren’t able to come back and retrieve it, however, but whatever the case, it simply is illogical to consider it your fault.” Logan’s wings twitched behind him as he finished his statement.

Virgil imagined if he hadn’t re-found the portal and went on thinking Rue disappeared. He pushed the thought out of his head. It was too sad to dwell on.

“Sorry, sorry,” Roman said. He obviously was trying to sober up, but quite unsuccessfully. “And besides, you helping would be way too dangerous. If you got caught in any way, I couldn’t guarantee you _ever_ getting back.”

“But I don’t- I want to help,” Virgil insisted. The three were looking at him as if he’d said something more like _I want to saw off my own head!_ Not just an offer to help. “Please,” he added.

“If we need it, kiddo, we’ll let you know,” Patton said. Virgil had a sinking feeling that the offer was empty. He was certain they all had zero intention of asking for his help.

“Thanks,” Virgil said. Patton grinned back at him then a beeping sounded from his pocket and he pulled out an object similar to a cellphone.

“Gotta get this. See you all later.” Patton ran out as he answered the call.

Logan sighed. “All right. It’s getting late. We should all get some sleep.”

“I have night watch tonight,” Roman said.

Logan huffed. “Okay, everyone besides Roman.” Roman whistled cheerfully and Logan groaned. “I’m just going to bed.” He threw Roman a card. “Do not lose it again. Please?” He sighed as if he knew his words were useless and walked out of the room.

“Poor Logan,” Roman said. His eyes focused back on Virgil then they widened. “Wow, what happened to your arms?” Virgil startled as he realised Roman’s eyes were fixed on Virgil’s arms that he had foolishly splayed across the table. Virgil looked down then slammed them into his lap. Probably not the most subtle way of going about things.

“My stupid cat.” _I don’t even have a_ cat, he scolded himself as he frantically rolled his sleeves down over his arms under the table.

“You have a cat and a dog? You like animals?” Roman asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Virgil said. “More so my mom, I guess.”

“You live with just your mom?” Roman asked. Virgil couldn’t help feeling as if he were being interrogated.

“Yeah- it’s just me and my mom.”

“Any siblings?” Roman asked as he looked began picking up Logan’s papers and stacking them into a neat little stack.

“I had a sister, but uhm, she died in the wreck.”

“Wow, that sucks,” Roman commented. “What about your dad? Why isn’t he in the picture?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Patton said as he peaked back into the room, hanging up his cellphone. “I swear, you act like a kid sometimes, Roman.” He gave Virgil a sympathetic look. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “I’m good.”

“Sorry for being a bit nosy,” Roman said. “Humans just intrigue me a lot. I wish we could learn about them without-” He cut himself off. “Never mind. Like Logan said, it’s late and you should probably get to sleep. Oh wait- Crap! Humans have to eat.” He slapped himself on the forehead.

Virgil felt similar to Roman; he’d honestly forgotten all about food and the fact he needed it to survive. _Nice going, Virgil._

Roman continued on with his frantic ramble. “What do humans eat?” He gave Patton a panicked look. “They also have to drink! What do they have to drink?”

“Why don’t you ask, I don’t know… Maybe, the _human_?” Patton asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Virgil snickered into his hands and Roman gave him a sheepish look. “So uh… What do humans eat? And drink? So you don’t like, die while everyone’s asleep.”

“Uhm, we just eat food and drink water.”

“Okay, so not far off from fairies. Nice. What kind of food?”

“I don’t know… anything?”

“Could you try to be more specific?” Roman asked. It wasn’t condescending or rude like Virgil expected the tone to be. It was just genuine curiosity. His eyes were doing that annoying thing where they fixed on him as if fascinated by his very existence, but slightly worried. As if Virgil was about to fall over at any second.

“Uhm… I…”

“Fruit?” Patton supplied helpfully. “Vegetables, bread?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“Cool! Wait here, I’m making dinner!”

“I’ll help and so can Virgil; we’ll make sure you don’t put something in there that might poison humans or something,” Patton said, still using the light and teasing tone.

Virgil felt grateful that he could help with _something_ , even if it was something as easy or lame as cooking. Ever since he’d lost his leg he’d managed to develop yet another fear. A fear of being useless and completely unhelpful. Being weak.

“All right,” Roman grumbled. His face seemed to instantly brighten within a second. “Okay, follow me.” Roman turned around and Virgil had to calm his racing heart upon seeing the bright, beautiful red wings. He wasn’t quite used to seeing them on everyone just yet.

Roman led the way through a few doors and halls (some were so bright and filled with light, Virgil had to shut his eyes and feel against the walls to follow them), until they made it to a small kitchen.

It had a weird machine right beside a window (with the curtains drawn), a counter and a fridge. It reminded himself so much of his own, it made him feel terribly homesick. He shoved down the feeling and followed the two into the room.

“I’m making fried fruit salad,” Roman stated randomly. “Fight me, Patton.”

“Why would I do that?” Patton asked innocently.

Roman began pulling out pans and humming some upbeat song as he turned on the oven. At least, Virgil assumed the strange machine was an oven. It looked similar to an oven, but there was a huge tube jutting out of the left side. There had to be at least twelve knobs. Virgil wondered what on earth they all could do. For a second he remembered the Hansel and Gretel tale and wondered if possibly they were going to shove him in the oven.

Then he hated himself for thinking of something so ludicrously stupid and childish.

“You have a very brooding look about you.” Virgil startled out of his thoughts to see Roman looking at him with his eyebrows pinched together. “Something sad too…” Roman trailed off and Virgil noticed Patton giving Roman a warning look. “Sorry,” Roman said pulling a smile. He turned back to his work. “You just don’t smile much. It’s different.”

“Oh,” Virgil managed lamely.

“He doesn’t mean it badly,” Patton said.

“Oh, yeah; it’s fine,” Virgil said. He forced himself to smile.

“Grab me the container on top of the counter,” Roman said. Virgil stood up and grabbed it. “Thanks,” he said, dumping the entire thing in a skillet. It looked like a bunch of cut apples, peaches and some other blueish fruit Virgil didn’t recognize. A part of him, the self-persevering side, told him to ask what it was. You know, make sure it wasn’t something that would kill him. But the other part just didn’t care.  

“I’m putting gasoline syrup on it,” Roman said.

Okay, now _that_ he _knew_ would kill him. “Uhm, that’s poisonous.”

Roman snorted. “I know, Virgil; I was joking. Your face is beyond priceless. But you can have antifreeze, right?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Joking again!” Roman smirked.

“You might wanna hurry before your fruit burns,” Patton advised.  

“Hang on- Virgil, grab me the box of spices on top of the fridge.”

Virgil reached up and grabbed the box (though it was more like a glass jar rather than a box; Virgil didn’t say anything), and handed it to Roman. Roman dumped what looked like half of the jar into the skillet then waved his hand over it and the thing burst into purple flame.

Virgil, much to his embarrassment, leapt back a few feet.

“Finished!” Roman cried and dumped the skillet onto one big tray then began dishing it into bowls. “Here, take this with you to work.” Roman handed the bowl to Patton who gratefully took it with a little “thank you,” and headed out the door.

Roman handed Virgil a bowl then said, “Here ya go. Eat up; then I need to talk to you about the paper you found in the trunk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Burst through door gripping a XXL thermos full of coffee* Hi!! It's been THREE MONTHS. THREE. Since I've updated this story I have cut my hair, turned 17, hugged my puppy approximately 1K times, and realised that my writing style has COMPLETELY CHANGED FROM WHEN I STARTED THIS FIC. 
> 
> So. I'm going to finish this. I swear it, up and down. This fic is in my drafts, finished, 24k words long. I just have to edit it and fix it before I can publish each chapter. But you guys have to understand something- I started this story BEFORE Anxiety was even introduced. I started this idea originally with Logan falling into an alternate world with fairies and blah blah blah. So this story? Weird. It's trippy to read. Lots of grammatical errors, awkward dialogue, messy characterization etc. But I'm publishing it and continuing it, because it wouldn't be fair to those who are enjoying this. I. Will. Finish It. 
> 
> One one condition: you have to forgive the mistakes. This story is messy. Very. Very messy. I know it is. I kinda of just wanna get it over with. Sooooo
> 
> Anywho. Feedback, as always, is appreciated. So sorry for ditching this story. 
> 
> <33


	5. Chapter 5

Virgil liked being able to read people, but he couldn’t really read the expression on Roman’ face and that terrified him. He wasn’t smiling like he usually was and he wasn’t really frowning either. He just looked sort of… disturbed.

Virgil decided, being his stupid self, to deny everything. “What paper?” he asked.

A small smile crept up on Roman’ face. “Dude, I know you know what I’m talking about.”

Virgil went into defense mode. “So?”

“You touched the paper, right?”

“Maybe.”

Roman sighed. “What’d you see?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you touched the paper, did you see anything? A vision?”

Virgil didn’t really feel like lying. “Yeah.”

“What was it?”

“It was just a memory,” Virgil said. He then forced himself to take a bite of the food so he didn’t look rude.

Wow, it was good.

“What kind of memory?” Roman looked like he wasn’t planning on dropping the topic any time soon. “Good? Bad?”

“Well, it wasn’t good.”

“So it was bad?” Roman asked. Virgil was surprised to see no impatience on Roman’ face. The guy looked like he was willing to wait for hours, pulling teeth, just to get a straight answer out of Virgil.

“Yeah.” Virgil looked away, as Roman was doing the “eye thing” again.

“What was it about?”

“Nothing important.”

“It has to be important if when you touched the paper showed you… it.” Roman looked confused with himself for a few seconds then looked back to Virgil.

“Why? It’s just some dumb memory.”

“Memories are important and not dumb,” Roman coughed awkwardly, “that _paper_ only shows important things.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked. His brain was telling him to shut up. “It’s just some stupid paper.”

Roman’ eyes were beginning to look clouded- as if _he_ was stuck in a nasty memory. “Yeah, you’re right.” Roman’ voice was beginning to sound sad. Then, in an instant the cloudy look was gone, the smile was back and Roman said, “Yeah, let’s just forget it for now,” in his normal cheerful voice. The change was so quick; Virgil might not have noticed if he wasn’t practically _studying_ Roman. “But don’t think I’ve completely dropped it,” Roman said with a wink. Roman took a bite (quite messily, might he add), of his food then went on asking, “So, where in the human world are you from?”

“Uhm, we come from Florida, but we moved recently.”

“That’s nice. I’ve always wanted to explore the human world. It’s so… cool.”

“Why don’t you?”

Roman put out his left arm and slid up his jacket sleeve to his elbow. At first, Virgil saw nothing but pale skin. But then he noticed a small blue cylinder-shaped lump where his wrist and the heels of Roman’ hands met. It was slightly creepy if Virgil were to be completely honest. The thing looked not only painful and uncomfortable but also as if it was trying to rip through Roman’s skin. Virgil had no idea how the man could live with it in his arm.

“It’s a tracker,” Roman explained. “As an officer, they have to trust me. And, shocker, once upon a time, they didn’t trust me.”

“Why not?”

“Story for a different time. Do you go to school? What year are you in?”

“My senior year.”

“So you’re seventeen or eighteen … right?”

“Yeah, eighteen,” Virgil said.

“Neat. You like the human school?”

Virgil shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Nobody really _likes_ school. But it’s all right, I suppose.”

“What’s it like?” Roman reminded Virgil very much of a small child; he was always eager to learn or ask questions. It was quite endearing.

“They stuff a bunch of kids in a classroom and the teacher teaches you the lessons. That’s pretty much it except for breaks; one’s for lunch, the other’s for a free period.” Roman looked fascinated as if Virgil had just told him the meaning of life or the secret to the universe. “What’s it like here?”

“Oh it’s a lot different,” Roman said. “Most students are taught by their parents, for one.”

“Like homeschool?”

“Yeah, you could call it that. The others go to a building, but that’s if they plan to become an officer or some other protective service. You choose your career field as a child, which kind of sucks. You’re trained one on one with a trainer.”

“You chose to become an officer when you were younger then?”

Roman nodded. “Yeah.” He suddenly began to look quite awkward. “I had quite a different view of humans when I was a kid…”

“Oh.” Virgil wanted to say something else- anything else, really. But nothing intelligent came. “How old are you?”

_Great job_ , Virgil though sarcastically.

Roman smiled again. “Nineteen. What career path were you thinking of taking?”

Virgil shrugged, beginning to feel as if he were playing twenty questions. “I don’t really think about it much. I’d like to sing, but…” He shrugged again. “I dunno. The wreck changed a lot.”

“Yeah? That sucks. Have-” The door to the kitchen burst open and a wide-eyed Logan stood in the doorway.

“Roman, we need you… _now_. Leaked human.”

Roman set his bowl down and ran to the door. He turned around to Virgil and called, “You remember your way to the passages, right?” He didn’t wait for Virgil to say anything before he said, “Go there to the room; get some sleep. You can raid the kitchen when you wake up or whatever, just don’t leave the house!” He ran out the door, following Logan.

Virgil finished the fruit salad (which was delicious), as slowly as he could manage. Then he began cleaning his dish (agonizingly slowly), and had to find where it belonged and put it away. After that, he cleaned the table and the oven. His mom would have fallen over if she saw him cleaning that much.

After he had finished, he was faced with the annoying reality that he had nothing left to do which meant that he had to try and find the stupid passages, which –of course- he forgot where they were.

With a sigh, he began trying to retrace his steps or, more so Roman’ steps than his. He found himself in several halls he was positive he wasn’t supposed to be in; some hall covered in terrible art and another terribly bright room, until he finally reached the one he was pretty sure Roman had taken him to. ( _Pretty sure_ wasn’t exactly the most reassuring thing, but he’d take it.)

Well, now he had to find how to open the passage.

He remembered how Roman had pressed his hand against the wall to get in. Virgil groaned as he looked at the completely bare walls. He figured he had to start somewhere. So he began placing his hand on each little part of the wall, hoping to find a section that would open.

What if he found it and the thing just wouldn’t let him in? It had scanned Roman’ hand. That most likely meant it had his handprint stored or… whatever. Virgil nearly kicked the wall in frustration. Why couldn’t things be _easy_ for once? ~~because he’s _Virgil_ and nothing ever goes right for him.~~

He had finally begun to search on the second side of the wall when he heard loud footsteps. He paused, silencing his tapping on the walls and prayed it was just his imagination. It certainly wasn’t, as he heard them getting louder and closer. Virgil’s heart seemed to stop beating. The footsteps creaked and seemed to echo ominously across the hall that led to Virgil’s hall. Virgil frantically began feeling the walls for the scanner once more.

_Please let me find it, please, please, please,_ he begged internally.

The footsteps got closer, louder. Virgil was ashamed to admit it, but a small whimper slid from his lips. The footsteps paused. Virgil held his breath and stood up, looking around for something to defend himself with.

_Maybe it’s one of them… Roman, Patton, or Logan,_ he told himself.

_But can you even trust **them**? _ another part of him asked.

Virgil heard the person enter the hall. He looked up and met the grey/green eyes of a boy with dark brown hair. He looked young- maybe younger than Virgil. He was dressed in a uniform similar to the ones officers wore, though it was a dark green colour. The guy’s eyes were wide as he looked upon Virgil. Then he reached quickly for his belt. Virgil’s eyes lowered to the officer’s hand where he was reaching for some sort of walkie-talkie looking thing.

In a choice between fight or flight, Virgil’s body decided to apparently fight; Virgil lunged.

It would have been a great idea if Virgil had at least given an extra second to judge the distance between him and the guy because instead of slamming into him, he ended up on the ground merely yanking the officer’s feet. He managed to knock the officer down then tried to reach for the walkie-talkie. However, the guy was pretty quick and squirmed away. Virgil lunged again, this time only successfully banging his head against the wall and tumbling over.

The officer had yanked out the device and pushed a button, then was bringing the device up to his mouth. Virgil managed to shove himself up and knock the device from the officer’s hand. He dove onto the floor, groping frantically until he grabbed the device and held it up.

“Yes!” Virgil yelled, momentarily forgetting the officer.

“Give it back.”

Virgil looked up and noticed the officer held some sort of gun. At the end of the chamber, there was a cylinder with a sharp point at the end, similar to an arrowhead. The officer was holding the gun and pointing it straight at Virgil with a grim expression on his face.

_How’re you gonna get out of this one?_ he asked himself, groaning internally. Slowly, Virgil lowered the device to the floor.

“Kick it this way,” he snapped.

“I have a fake leg,” Virgil said. Of course, it was a crap excuse, but Virgil was at a loss for anything else to try.

“Use the other one!” the officer yelled impatiently. 

Virgil wasn’t sure if he did it on purpose or if it was an accident, but he kicked the device with a little _too_ much force. It shot across the room, passing the officer. In a sort of panic, the officer pulled the trigger and the bullet shot out. Virgil tried to dive away, but the bullet slammed into his shoulder. He yelped, hands catching himself as he fell to the floor. Pain shot across his shoulder. With a trembling hand, Virgil touched the embedded bullet and drew his hands away. There was no blood but the pain was excruciating.

He was too blinded by the pain to see anything around him and he couldn’t keep any of the screams in the back of his throat. He was faintly aware of the officer running to him and grabbing his wrists and yanking them behind his back. It felt as if someone had poured lava across his shoulder and arms and head... and everywhere. And in the small parts that didn’t feel that way, he felt a burning sort of cold. He heard metal clicking, he supposed handcuffs, across his wrists and the metal against his skin made everything burn more. The tears pouring out his eyes weren’t helping in the least bit- they felt like razors cutting across his burning face.

Then Virgil felt the weight of the officer being kicked off him. He sprawled awkwardly across the floor, his body on his bound hands which were beginning to ache on top of the pain. He struggled to move up, biting his lip so hard his teeth went all the way through the skin as he struggled. Somehow, amongst the struggle, his leg had come off, which he noticed lying across the floor. He managed to push himself up, only to flop back down on the floor on his stomach this time, which still hurt, but not as terribly. Blood pooled from his lip across the floor. It soaked the flooring as Virgil watched in slight horror and fascination.

He could barely take the pain anymore, it felt worse than anything; worse than the car wreck, losing his leg, or breaking his nose in seventh grade. It hurt so terribly bad and all Virgil wanted was it to go away. Then somebody was yanking him up and Virgil struggled frantically and the person just fought on until he was back on his back. Virgil struggled to pull away unsuccessfully. He felt them touch his shoulder, which hit him with such a blinding pain, he couldn’t move or speak, and he felt like he went blind as his vision vanished.

Then in an instant, the pain was gone and his body flopped with exhaustion. His lip stung terribly and his entire body felt like heavy cement. He blinked up to see Patton looking down worriedly. He was gripping the slim bloody cylinder bullet between his fingers.

“Don’t try to move, kiddo,” Patton commanded standing up and pulling out a phone. He began to dial a number and Virgil being the idiot he was, tried to move his hands from behind him.

Big mistake.

His entire body ached so badly it felt like he had touched a broken bone. More like stepping on a broken bone, but whatever. His vision seemed blurry and choppy, like a glitching video. For a few moments it would be fine, then it would go out. He heard Patton talking on the phone in the background. He heard footsteps and then frantic voices.

Virgil couldn’t take it anymore. He closed his eyes and allowed himself give in to the exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I apologise for the lack of updates. I have grown to hate this story, to be honest. As I said before- it’s finished. I just have to go through and edit. Which is a huge pain. My old writing style is garbage aha. Anyway, uh... enjoy? We are (hopefully), approaching the end soon. Sorry for going MIA on this story... again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to just go for it and edit all of the chapters and then post them to get this story over with. I’ve reached a point where I genuinely hate this story. But I want the people who have enjoyed it to get to finish it. I’m also posting the rest to my AO3. I will be editing and finishing this story tonight, maybe also tomorrow if I cannot finish it all tonight. It should be about 20k in total. 
> 
> I want to apologise profusely once again. I started this story when I was fifteen. It started as a One Direction fanfiction. It’s been literally years since I started this story and my style has evolved a hella lot. I just want to get this thing out of the way so I can move on. As I said, I’ve grown to hate this story. I want to finish it so I never have to look at it again.
> 
> Once again, I am so sorry. I never realised a story could fill me with so much guilt.

Virgil dreamt that he was back with his mom and Rue. They sat across from each other on the couches. His mom looked grim, though slightly concerned. Rue was doing her usual routine of dig, sniff the ground, dig some more, then plop down at his mom’s feet. It looked like a pretty normal scene until he saw his father sitting beside his mom, because his dad _never_ sat with his mom anymore. That was a thing of the past, like, the _past-past_ , before the wreck, before Virgil’s mind was screwed with to the point of no return.

His dad was wearing a black suit with his hair neat and tidy. His legs were crossed and his hands were folded into his lap. Virgil noticed his father’s phone lying in the middle of the floor. His father didn’t seem to notice.

Something about the scene felt vaguely creepy. The kind of creepy where there is only _one thing wrong_ , but it seems to a make a world of difference. Like, why on the sacred earth, were his parents sitting together? And so civilized. His dad wasn’t supposed to be here, no. Something was _wrong_ , dead wrong.

“Virgil,” his mother said. She slipped her hand into his dad’s. ~~They never held hands, even when they were together.~~ “We have something to propose to you.”

 _No_. His mother never used words like _propose,_ that was for his stupid stiff-as-a-board father to do. Words wouldn’t escape his mouth.

“We’re getting back together.” Virgil watched his father’s face carefully. It was stoic as usual.

He tried to protest, he really did. Because as he got older, he learned that despite how much he wanted a _“normal”_ family, he couldn’t have one. His dad was toxic to his mom and she didn’t deserve somebody like him. Somebody who constantly was angry and absent. 

“We’re leaving you behind, Virgil,” his father spoke up. “Your sister will be fine.”

He opened his mouth. Whether to scream or tell his father that his sister was _dead_ , he wasn’t sure. Because the next thing he knew, he was bolting upward panting. His body was soaked in sweat. Looking around, he noticed he was lying in a dimly lit hospital room. Or- he _assumed_ it was a hospital room.

Half of it looked like one. From the bed he was asleep on and the I.V. sticking in his arm to the counters and various medical machines. The other half was just… odd. There was a shelf across from the bed containing multiple vials of something an inky black colour. A counter under the shelf held several plastic molds that looked similar to fairy wings.

But, this place existed solely of fairies, so what did he expect?

Virgil took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his matted and damp hair. His body ached terribly as if he’d ran without stop for hours straight. Despite having just woken up, he felt an unexplainable exhaustion. Well, it was explainable but he really didn’t want to think about _why._ His head seemed to throb along with the heart monitors beeping and his legs were shaking slightly, as if forced to hold up a huge weight.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t remember what had happened. To be honest, he’d have liked nothing more than to be able to forget the nasty ordeal. The pain… He shuddered. He never wanted to feel pain like that again. Ever.

The door opening interrupted his thoughts, which Virgil was glad of. He could have very easily gone to the point of no return with his thoughts. Patton walked through the door and smiled widely at Virgil.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Virgil replied. He frowned at his hoarse voice. Then he looked back up to Patton. “What was that bullet?” He was afraid Patton wouldn’t know what it meant, but Patton’s look of recognition proved him wrong. Patton shut the door and walked over to Virgil’s bedside.

“Humans and fairies have very different blood types.” It was as if as soon as Patton started talking, he went into doctor mode. “The biggest difference is the colours. A human’s blood turns red when it hits oxygen. Our’s turns black. The bullet you were hit with only affects the blood. See, a human and fairy’s blood can’t mix because it’s like touching lava.” Patton slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out the bullet from his pocket. Virgil caught the small splash of blood at the tip where it had hit his shoulder.

“These bullets are designed to use on humans.” Patton looked as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. “It’s disgusting, really. They fill it with fairy’s blood. The chamber releases the liquid when it makes contact with a human’s skin, which also differs from the fairy’s. Like I said, a fairy’s blood is dangerous to a human. This bullet injects the blood right into your system. It can do a lot of damage if you don’t perform the right actions immediately. Taking the bullet out helps a small bit, because the metals in the bullet help the blood along. Taking it out slows the process. But the blood was still in the system and I had to surgically filter it.”

Virgil nodded. “So that’s why it… it hurt so bad?”

Patton nodded. “I’m very sorry, Virgil. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“What about-” Virgil coughed, his throat beginning to burn- “about the officer?”

“He’s been taken care of, kiddo,” Patton said. His eyes looked slightly dark. Virgil shivered.

“And uhm, last question, where am I?”

“In the emergency tunnels. It’s the place I treat all humans who fall through if they’re injured. These were created a long while ago, when the terrible treatment of humans began. Only the fairies who are really trusted with protecting humans know about them.” Patton smiled slightly. “These tunnels are also connected to the ones in people’s houses. It’s a huge underground thing that the officers know zilch about.”

Virgil nodded. Screw the “last question” thing, he was still confused. “Why are some officers trusted and some… not?” Virgil began awkwardly. “I mean- just, how can you trust an officer when their job is to, you know… pretty much collect the humans.”

Patton smiled sympathetically. “I get why you’re concerned. But the closer to the enemy you are, the more information you can get, more resources. Roman is in a position where he can take the humans and protect them before the real officers get to them.”

“Like how he sent me back to my home…”

“Yes.”

“But, why didn’t I remember it happening until I fell back down?”

“Logan and I created a drug, which we gave you before sending you back to your home. It erases the memory of the moments spent here. It prevents people from coming back and getting hurt. Obviously, when you came back down, your memories were triggered.”

“Yeah… What happens if we don’t get Rue? What will they do to her?” Virgil felt his cheeks burning when his voice cracked.

Patton’s eyes looked incredibly sad and gentle. “We’ll get Rue, okay? I promise, buddy.”

“What if-” Virgil’s voice cracked again and he felt tears pricking at his eyes. Virgil pressed his hands against his face, trying to cover up the evidence. He took a few deep breaths. “What if you just drug me again and send me back up without Rue. You don’t understand how much I need her; my mom needs her.” Virgil was barely aware he was rambling and tears were pouring down his face. _Why was he breaking over a stupid dog_? “My dad left us and my sister died and she just… It’s only me and my mom now. I can’t go back without Rue. I just can’t.”

“You won’t. Hey, Virgil. Look at me.” Virgil wiped his eyes and took a few more deep breaths as Patton waited patiently. Finally, he looked up, trying to keep himself from crying again like a small child. “We’ll get your dog, all right? We will. Logan is _very_ dedicated to his missions and he’s started this one. He’s not going to just stop. You’re not going back until we have Rue, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Patton said seriously. “You have every reason to be upset.” He seemed to go into a thought then looked slightly hesitant. “As a doctor… and a friend, Virgil, I’d recommend seeing someone.”

Virgil frowned. “What do you mean?”

 “A therapist. From what I’ve observed, you seem to be dealing with a lot of issues. I think seeing somebody would help you a lot.”

“My dad said the same thing,” Virgil said with a dry laugh. “He offered to pay for it to. I don’t like handouts. And I don’t like talking about… everything.”

“Maybe you could pay for it? Whatever would help. I’m just making a recommendation,” Patton said. “It’s up to you in the end, kiddo.”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, guess so.” Something kept bothering him. He didn’t really want to say it out loud, but he wondered what had happened with the officer. If they’d let him go… if they’d done something else.

Virgil didn’t want to think about it.

“Logan’s staying outside, so if you need him, just use this,” Patton tapped a small remote beside the bed, “to dial 77. That’s Logan’s number. You just have to stay here for a little while for observation then you’ll be able to leave.” Patton scribbled something down on a paper tacked up on one of the walls. “Get some rest,” Patton said. He walked opened the door then walked out.

Virgil sighed and looked up the ceiling. He was confused and terrified. His brain felt muddled; as if he was missing a huge and highly important piece. Even with practically straining his mind to the point it physically hurt, he couldn’t remember. _Something_ important, something about his dad and his sister.

“Ugh,” Virgil groaned and threw a hand to his forehead. It hurt to think, but he needed to.

Then it hit him like a box of rocks and he really _really_ wished it hadn’t. It was the dream (of _course_ ), and as soon as he remembered it, he felt like he was ripped from his body and brought to another scene.

He was back on the couch, facing his mom and dad. The phone still laid in the middle of the room. Rue was still in the same position and his mom and father both looked on at him with the same looks. As if he’d never left the stupid dream.

“Virgil, did you hear us?” his father asked.

Virgil tried to say yes, but he couldn’t. He tried to nod, but he felt like his body was paralyzed.

“Virgil, this is very important,” his mother snapped.

“I’m sorry.” Of all the words he’d wanted to say, his mouth finally worked to say those.

Her eyes seemed to glaze over when he talked then she said in a distant and said voice, “Virgil? Where are you?”

Virgil stood up. He could _move_ and this was _real_ , it had to be. It didn’t feel like a dream or a vision anymore. Rue and his father were frozen as if time had stopped for everyone besides him and his mom.

“Mom?” he whispered.

“Virgil, where are you?”

“Right here.”

“Why won’t you come back home?” Tears were tracing her cheeks. Her eyes kept that distant look.

“Mom, I’m right here.” He reached out and clasped her hands. She screamed and everything went black. He let go and the black disappeared. He was back to standing in front of her. The look in her eye vanished. Rue was panting again. His father coughed.

“Hand me my cellphone, would you?”

Then the scene vanished.

Virgil was standing in a field of grass. However, it was the most beautiful (though beautiful seemed too dull of a word), field he had ever seem. The green of the grass was such a vibrant colour. The sun shone across the field, but it wasn’t exactly _hot_. The temperature was perfect. Looking to the distance, Virgil could see streams and flowers (all the most vibrant colours he had ever seen), across the distance.

It was such a lovely and perfect scene, it felt almost… painful.

Virgil didn’t have time to dwell, for a few seconds later he heard footsteps and a girl ran to him. Her hair was braided and thrown over her left shoulder. Her eyes were a dark brown, matching her smooth skin perfectly. She wore a purple dress that looked dingy compared to the purple flowers across the field.

She smiled at Virgil, though she looked as if she were in a rush. She said, “You touched the paper?”

Virgil couldn’t speak; he simply blinked in a state of shock.

“I’m Bamidele.”

“Is this real?” Virgil asked. He couldn’t even manage a smile. The place was pretty; the girl was pretty… everything was _perfect_. It was too perfect.

“Of course.”

“But this is another dream,” Virgil mumbled. “It has to be.”

“Why?” Bamidele asked. “Why does it have to be a dream?”

Virgil sighed. “I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t like that word. But no- no, you’re not. You touched the paper, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Virgil replied. Then his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Wait- how would you know?”

“I know because I created it,” she said. Her eyes looked sad as if recalling something painful. “It was a huge mistake, but I don’t have the time to explain it to you. I need you to return it to me.”

“What- Why?”

“There isn’t time. You’ll be drawn back to your world soon-“

“It’s not my world.”

She ignored him. “Pick it up, but don’t let it touch your skin. If you do, it shows your worst memories… fear, regrets. Everything terrible in the world. Please, I need it back or more people will suffer.”

“Why would you create such a thing?” Virgil snapped. He couldn’t help but feel angry at the girl. Who in their right mind would create something only meant to draw painful memories or fear from within?

“No _time_ ,” she hissed. “Listen to me, Virgil-”

“How do you know my name?”

“LISTEN!” she screamed. A flash of darkness swept across the field. Virgil felt unbearably cold. “You must bring it back to me. Please, the last one did not-”

The scene flickered, as if it was a television with a bad reception.

“Who was the last one?” Virgil asked, slowly trying to piece things together.

“Roman-” The scene flickered again. “No time! They are calling for you. Please try and bring it to me. It will stop your visions, I swear!”

“Wait- how do you know about them? And- hey!” The scene flickered, this time, he saw the hospital room coming back into view. “How will I return it to you?”

“I will return to y-”

The scene flickered and he was back in the hospital room, his entire body shivering. The cold from the vision seemed to remain.

“Virgil!” Roman exclaimed. He was leaning over Virgil worriedly. “Are you all right? You look like a hot mess.”

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled. “You look great too.”

Roman glared then his face shifted into something far more somber than Virgil had ever pictured Roman to be. “Are you all right? Seriously, you looked terrified.”

“It’s that stupid paper!” Virgil cried.

Realization crossed Roman’ face. “I think it’s time to talk.”

Virgil couldn’t have agreed more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to just go for it and edit all of the chapters and then post them to get this story over with. I’ve reached a point where I genuinely hate this story. But I want the people who have enjoyed it to get to finish it. I’m also posting the rest to my AO3. I will be editing and finishing this story tonight, maybe also tomorrow if I cannot finish it all tonight. It should be about 20k in total.
> 
> I want to apologise profusely once again. I started this story when I was fifteen. It started as a One Direction fanfiction. It’s been literally years since I started this story and my style has evolved a hella lot. I just want to get this thing out of the way so I can move on. As I said, I’ve grown to hate this story. I want to finish it so I never have to look at it again.
> 
> Once again, I am so sorry. I never realised a story could fill me with so much guilt.

Roman pulled a chair up to the bedside, but was interrupted by Patton coming in and checking Virgil’s vitals. Then Patton pulled Roman aside and the two fought in hushed whispers while Virgil sat up in the bed, annoyed. His name had come up in their little argument at least twice and it frustrated Virgil that they were talking about him as he sat a few feet away.

Then after Patton left, Roman sat down again and gave Virgil a smile. Then said, “Okay, so, what about the paper?”

“I… I had a- a dream or something… about it.”

Roman stared intently at Virgil. “Go on.

“This girl, Bamidele just got into my head and told me I need to give it back to her- the paper.” Saying it out loud make him feel a lot more stupid and embarrassed.

Roman didn’t seem to take notice of Virgil’s embarrassment. Or care. He ducked his head and ran his hands across his face. “I’m sorry,” Roman said. His voice sounded scratchy and muffled. Virgil blamed it on the fact his hands were covering his face.

“Why?”

Roman looked up and Virgil was startled to see Roman’ eyes were red. “This is all my fault.”

Virgil forced himself to ignore the ache as he shoved himself up in the bed. The blankets dumped on the floor and Virgil pushed himself on his knees. “How,” Virgil tried to stop gritting his teeth, “is this your fault?”

“I was your age.” Virgil frowned then leaned back. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that a story was going to be told. “I was exploring.” Tears were starting to form in Roman’s eyes and it felt so painful. Roman, from the few short withering bits of time Virgil had known Roman, the boy had been nothing but wonderful, if only a little annoying. A glimpse of happiness, untouched and perfect. Roman did not deserve to cry. He shouldn’t have to cry. Virgil felt his own eyes stinging.

“I found a paper on the ground and I picked it up. I should have known something was wrong.” Roman’s lip wobbled. “Fairies don’t litter. That’s a human trait. But I- I picked it up.” Roman made some foreign gesture, his right hand circling in the air and then grasping. “And it was worse than any hell I’ve felt. Because it was all the hells I’ve faced, all of them all at once. And I stuffed it in my pocket. I locked it up. And when Bamidele came into my head, asking for it, I ignored her. I forgot- Or, I tried. And now you have to deal with it.” Roman ducked his head again. Virgil heard Roman’ shuddering breathing.

“That’s not your fault,” Virgil muttered.

“Hm?” Roman looked up.

“And… why can’t we just do what you did? Lock it up again.”

“Because,” Roman began as he wiped the tears from his eyes, “she told me if I didn’t give it back, the memories from the stupid thing will haunt your dreams forever. I thought it was just an empty threat. But it’s not, believe me, it’s not.”

“Yeah.” Virgil shrugged. “Why didn’t you… ya know, just give it back?”

“Never got the chance. She never came back.”

“Well, you finally have an opportunity to return the stupid thing. Let’s get it and give it back to her.” Virgil shoved himself up and made to stand. Roman smirked and shoved him over.

“You’re an idiot. I’ll get it and bring it back.”

“What if that screws it up?”

“I don’t think that will,” Roman said. “I’ll be fast.”

“Fast?” Virgil asked, carefully watching the grin slowly overcoming Roman’s face.

“You ever seen a fairy fly, Virgil?”

“…No.”

“You’re about to. Watch this.” Roman slipped off his jacket and Virgil watched in amazement as the wings flashed brightly, twitching at their core through the small hole in his grey t-shirt. “Biology lesson, Virge.” Roman winked. “Wings work like practically any other part of the body. They can break, they can bleed and they can move. They’re not very flexible like your little books say and-” Roman’s grin got bigger, “they’re super durable and not delicate at all- opposite of how they look.”

Virgil couldn’t contain the look of childish curiosity and glee off his face. “Like, they actually can pick you up and fly?”

Roman put a hand against his heart and feigned an offended look. “Of course. We learn when we’re babies, like we learn how to walk. Of course, walking’s easier. Running’s a little harder. Flying… It’s pretty hard, but you learn.”

“How do they work then?”

“Like legs, haven’t you been listening?” Roman teased. “Like any other body part. You control it- how they go back and forth, how they balance out.”

“Like riding a bicycle.”

“A what?”

“Erm, a thing you ride-”

“I know what it is, I’m just kidding. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Before Virgil could blink Roman was flying (literally), out the door and it felt like the stupidest and coolest moment in his life at the same time.

Virgil sighed then pushed himself upward again. Carefully he slung his legs off the side of the bed then rested his elbows atop his thighs then dipped his chin in palms of his hands. He stared at the door until it was a blur of nothingness and he was so far into his head that he didn’t care.

His eyes closed as the room’s air began to grow heavy. When his eyes snapped shut, the room faded away leaving him sitting on the couch at his house, his mom crouching in front of him.

“Virgil, are you okay?”

Virgil looked up and smiled. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when I get to your dad’s.”

“Okay.”

It felt normal. It shouldn’t have- his mom and dad didn’t visit each other. The only time they’d really talk, was when they’d have their two-hour long screaming matches on the phone. But it felt normal, like she was just going over to visit a friend.

The air shifted and he was sitting next to a fire that crackled wildly. A bunch of kids danced around it, some roasting marshmallows and snapping at the kids who were trying to throw their sticks in the fire. Virgil recognized the atmosphere from the bonfire back in second grade.

“Watch,” a little girl said. She grinned and picked up a random kids book and dumped it into the fire. As the fire licked up the pages, Virgil felt a lightbulb go off in his head.

The scene vanished. He was back in the hospital room, eyes drooping and his chin still digging into his palms. The door clicked open and Roman entered. His brown hair was damp and stuck to his forehead. His jacket was back on and Roman gripped a plastic bag with the piece of paper neatly folded inside.

“Back,” Roman said.

“Hey, I have a question,” Virgil began.

“I could have an answer,” Roman said and tossed the bag to Virgil. Virgil stared down at it, eyebrows furrowed. It was terribly odd that a normal item could be so… dangerous.

“Why didn’t you burn it? It’s paper, I mean-” Virgil cut himself off and looked down at the paper again. “Fire destroys paper.”

“It’s also fireproof.” Roman sat down beside Virgil, his shoulder lightly bumping Virgil’s in the process. “Waterproof, tear-proof… Everything-proof.”

Virgil frowned. “Did you try?”

“No,” Roman said with a sad smile. “Bamidele told me not to. She said it would make things worse. Why try?”

“Because she might be lying.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised almost comically. “What do you mean?”

“Anybody who makes something like this… Why would you trust them?”

“Because they’re the only person to trust? Virgil, what’re you getting at?” With trembling hands, Virgil slowly pulled the plastic flaps of the bag apart. “Virgil, stop! What’re you doing?” Roman’ hands reached to snatch the bag from Virgil. Virgil yanked his hands away and stood on shaking feet.

“Why would she make something like this, Roman? Who does that?”

Roman was on his feet. His hands were in front of him, fingers splayed out in a placating gesture. “Virgil, put it down. Have you gone mad?”

“What, so you trust her just because she says so? You’re naïve, Roman.”

“I don’t think we’ve known each other long enough for you to judge my character yet,” Roman snapped. “Haven’t you ever made mistakes? She might have too.”

“Why’re you defending her?” Virgil asked. “I just want to try something, see if it works.”

“What then?” Roman was frowning, a look of complete confusion on his face.

Virgil reached inside the bag. He heard Roman screaming. He felt the bag drop to the floor. His body exploded with pain so terrible he could hear ringing in his ears. With shaking hands, he gripped the top of the paper and ripped.

The thing tore down the middle and burst into flames. Virgil dropped like a deadweight and then his senses came back. Roman was on the floor, fumbling with Virgil’s wrists. Virgil’s eyes snapped open and he let out a low whimper.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” Roman gasped, eyes wide. “Do you have a death wish?”

Virgil looked and saw the ashes of the paper scattered on the floor. He pushed himself up onto his knees. “It can rip,” Virgil said breathlessly.

“I noticed,” Roman said. His hand squeezed Virgil’s shoulder. “You’re idiotically brave. Braver than I.”

“What?”

Roman shrugged as he crossed his legs and sat across from Virgil. “Stupid- borderline suicidal but… brave.”

Virgil shook his head. “Not really.”

Roman just raised an eyebrow and stared at the ashes. “What was the wreck like?”

“The wreck…?” Virgil trailed off. Then shrugged. “Awful.”

“I’ve never been in a wreck, but… when I was little, an officer found out me and some friends- Thomas, Patton and Logan- had tried to go to the human world. We wanted to after seeing them beat a human girl to death. We wanted to warn the humans.” Virgil frowned at the sudden change of subject, but listened.

Roman let out a small laugh. “We got in trouble. A lot of it. We learned to shut our mouths… protect humans as much as we could without people finding out.” Roman looked at Virgil with eyes dripping in guilt. “It’s not enough.”

“Why not?”

“Humans need protection… We should protect them. Not hurt them. They’re fragile… No offense, but you’re all built different than us. You get hurt so easy… die so easy.” Roman paused and took a breath. “Animals in our world- they’re weak. So very weak. We don’t hurt them. We love them and care for them. Why can’t we do it for humans?”

Virgil swallowed down the strange lump in his throat. “There are bad people, Roman. Bad humans.”

“And bad fairies,” Roman said. “Your argument falls apart right there. You’re a good human. Patton and Logan- they’re all good fairies. Some humans are bad, of course. But I can take you to the jails and show you a long list of bad fairies.”

“I guess you’re right,” Virgil mumbled quietly.

“You wanna know my dream?”

“What is it?”

“That fairies stop looking at humans as bad… that we can help you guys. Maybe live in one happy world.” Roman sighed then smiled. “I haven’t given up hope that it can happen.” Roman looked back up at Virgil. “In your world- what do humans think of fairies?”

“There’s a lot of myths and legends,” Virgil said. “Kids believe in them- some adults do.”

“Do you?” Roman asked with a wink.

Virgil laughed. “I don’t see why I would.”

A loud creak interrupted their conversation as Logan came in through the door. He was panting and looked completely exhausted, but a huge grin was splayed across his face. “I figured out a way to get Rue!”

Virgil pushed himself up to stand as soon as the words left Logan’s mouth. “You did?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. Roman joined beside Virgil in standing up.

“You don’t look so great,” Roman began, but Logan cut him off.

“I’ve been working for hours- stayed up half the night. But I figured it out.” Logan held out a spiral bound pink notebook that didn’t look to be in the best of shape. “My notes are, perhaps, a little sloppy, but you shall understand the gist of things.”

Roman opened the notebook and flipped through the pages, his brow furrowed. “You… you sure put out a lot of work into this.”

“Right?” Logan crossed his arms and smiled smugly at Virgil. “See? You will have Rue back soon.”

“Logan… As wonderful as this plan is, Patton isn’t going to okay it. I mean…” Roman smiled, “I love it. I just worry that he won’t approve.”

“Notice, if you will, Roman.” Logan pointed to the page. “This plan only involves four people. And Patton is not one of them.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. What…?

Roman didn’t look the slightest bit confused, in fact his eyes lit up mischievously and a smirk slowly spread across his face. “Thomas would be fairly easy to convince.”

“Patton doesn’t have to know…” Logan trailed off.

The pieces seemed to click in Virgil’s head. Of course! Why was he such an idiot?

“So, I’m picking up that Patton’s not supposed to know?” Virgil asked.

Roman shook his head. “He’d kill us.”

“So…?” Virgil trailed off. Then said, “I get to be involved?”

Roman’s face looked downright wicked. “Oh yes, friendo. Yes, indeed.”

“You just have to heal up first,” Logan said. “I will not allow you to assist if you are still injured.”

Virgil couldn’t muffle his excitement; he pumped his fist in the air and let out a small enthusiastic cry, ignoring the pain. Roman grinned and Logan stiffly patted the two on the back. He made his way to the door then turned around.

“Don’t tell Patton, you two. Don’t. You. Dare.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to just go for it and edit all of the chapters and then post them to get this story over with. I’ve reached a point where I genuinely hate this story. But I want the people who have enjoyed it to get to finish it. I’m also posting the rest to my AO3. I will be editing and finishing this story tonight, maybe also tomorrow if I cannot finish it all tonight. It should be about 20k in total.
> 
> I want to apologise profusely once again. I started this story when I was fifteen. It started as a One Direction fanfiction. It’s been literally years since I started this story and my style has evolved a hella lot. I just want to get this thing out of the way so I can move on. As I said, I’ve grown to hate this story. I want to finish it so I never have to look at it again.
> 
> Once again, I am so sorry. I never realised a story could fill me with so much guilt.

It felt weird keeping a secret from Patton. If Virgil was being honest, he usually didn’t have a secret to keep. So keeping one from somebody he trusted and somebody so kind… it felt kind of wrong and filled him with a strange guilt.

Virgil had to stay in the hospital for two more days, which completely and utterly sucked. He’d fall in and out of sleep, plagued by awful nightmares. Some were normal; they were just about the wreck, his sister and his dad. Others were just weird; strange shapes and fire, a pit of sharp knives and a man screaming at him to run. Then some were absolutely terrifying. They were the ones where his mom was behind some sort of glass, begging Virgil to come back. Then his dad would come along, grasp his mom’s hand and she’d forget all about Virgil.

Patton was constantly checking on him, checking his vitals and making a reassuring comment here and there. On the second day, the day he was due to be released, Logan and Roman dropped by along with a slightly cross looking boy who they introduced as Thomas.

“I don’t see why we have to keep this from Patton,” Thomas said.

“You know that he will object,” Logan argued. He then sat at the end of Virgil’s bed and pulled out the notebook. “I’m gonna give the bare basics right now. The plan requires four people.” Logan shifted through his messy notebook. Virgil noticed the blackish blue smears under Logan’s eyes had grown somewhat. As the bags had grown, Logan’s coordination dropped somewhat drastically. The notebook dropped to the floor. Logan grunted in frustration and bent down, only stopped by Thomas’ hand.

Thomas leaned over and picked up the notebook then shot Logan a look. “You have _got_ to start getting more sleep,” Thomas commented as he handed the notebook back to Logan.

“The project is more important,” Logan commented with a hint of a smile. He flipped the notebook back open.

“He gets like this whenever he has a case,” Roman muttered in Virgil’s ear. “It can get ridiculous.”

“They are going to transfer Rue from one location to another.” Logan pushed a skillfully hand drawn map to then. “The trail has been marked in red. We’re going to intercept the automobile-”

“Wait- you guys have cars?” Virgil asked with a frown. “Roman said-”

“Cars?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “Of course. We call them automobiles. “Cars” is a term used by humans to specify the type of automobile, correct?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said with a frown. “Roman didn’t know that?”

Roman blushed. “I knew that.”

“Of course you did,” Virgil said.

“Oh, you-”

“Could you please let Logan finish?” Thomas asked.

“Aye-aye, sir,” Roman said and gave a sloppy mock salute.

“We’ll intercept the automobile,” Logan said. “Two people, you and you,” he pointed to Thomas and Roman, “hide in the backseat. Getting in there will not be an issue, because another person, me, will be able to get you in through the roof. One person- either Thomas or Roman will knock the driver out while another controls the automobile. There will be high security so if you so much as swerve you’ll tip the sensors off. After this Virgil and I will get Rue from the back. Virgil’s my lookout.”

“Congrats. You spent days on that plan?” Thomas asked.

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Yes?”

“I think it’s good,” Roman said. “Risky, but good.”

“What happens if we get caught? Virgil is screwed,” Thomas said. He took the notebook from Logan and his eyes skimmed the pages. “This is why we should tell Patton.”

“Patton won’t approve, because it puts Virgil in danger,” Logan piped up.

“Okay, so even you admit it’s dumb!” Thomas cried.

“I did no such thing. I confess it is risky, that is all.”

“But it’ll get Rue back? Right?” Virgil asked, finally cutting in.

Logan locked his gaze on Virgil grimly. “If it works.”

“Then I vote we do it.” Virgil could barely believe himself. Usually, he wasn’t brave. He never took stupid risks or put his life in such danger. Maybe it was time to change. He just thanked God his shaking hands were hidden under the covers.

“I’m with Virgil,” Logan said.

“Of course you are, it was your plan,” Thomas grumbled. Logan shot him a glare.

“I say we do it,” Roman said. “It can’t be that bad. We’ve done risky stuff before. This is just another mission.”

Thomas threw his hands up. “Do I really have to be the voice of reason here? That’s usually you, Logan.”

Logan did not say a word, merely stared at Thomas with blank eyes. Thomas stared back, eyes full of stubbornness and annoyance. Finally, Thomas threw his hands in the air again.

“Fine. We’ll do it. But I’m not happy about it,” Thomas warned.

“When are we carrying out the plan?” Virgil asked.

“Tomorrow,” Logan said. “We sh-”

A knock sounded at the door. Panicked, Logan shoved the notebook at Roman who shoved it up his shirt. The doorknob twisted just as Logan snatched the notebook right back and slipped in under Virgil’s pillow. Patton stood in the doorway holding a clipboard and wearing a frown.

“What’re you guys doing?”

“We’re gonna help Virgil get back to the house,” Thomas rushed out.

“All three of you?”

“We figured we might need backup,” Roman said. Logan looked ready to strangle the two. Patton just looked confused.

“Okay… I need a few moments with Virgil.” Logan stood up. Roman and Thomas didn’t move. With a sigh Patton said, “Alone.”

“Of course. We’ll just wait outside,” Roman said, scrambling up. He shoved Logan and Thomas along. Virgil watched as the door slammed, leaving Patton and Virgil alone.

“They’re hiding something,” Patton said with another sigh. He pressed his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose and sighed again. He walked over to the sink and began washing his hands. “You know, Virgil… I can tell when people are hiding something.” Virgil watched nervously as Patton dried his hands with paper towels then turned around to fix Virgil with an intense gaze. “I know you’re in the loop with what they’re hiding, kiddo.”

“I-” Virgil cut himself off, feeling his cheeks go red. His heart beat a little faster than normal.

“Just… take care of yourself, okay?”

Virgil blinked. He hadn’t expected _that_. “Okay.” Virgil was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded.

Patton smiled, an expression that was so genuine that it hurt. “I’m sure you’re excited to leave,” Patton commented. He walked over, pulling on gloves and began pulling out the I.V.

“Yeah. Not a big fan of hospitals, no offense.”

“Most people aren’t, so none taken,” Patton said with a laugh. He tossed the needle into a yellow box. “Virgil… I can’t tell you what to do,” Patton took a seat beside the bed, “but I can try to give some advice. You have to be careful. Think things through. You don’t have to tell me what’s going on- those three are always keeping secrets.” Patton smiled sadly. “Everyone thinks I’m too stupid to be cued in-”

“You’re not,” Virgil tried but Patton didn’t listen.

“But just be careful. You’re in a different world. You have to keep your guard up. Got it?”

Virgil nodded slowly and tried to smile. “I will.”

Patton squeezed his shoulder then walked over to the door and opened it. “You guys can take him back to the house now.” Roman, Logan, and Thomas filed in. Patton waved with a small smile. “See you all at the house.”

Logan snapped the door shut with a sigh. “He’s far too observant.”

Virgil slipped out of the bed, stretching his legs.

“All ready to go?” Roman asked. Virgil nodded. “Follow me!” Roman opened the door and gestured for them to follow. The outside looked like a much smaller version of the average hospital. There was a small desk where one girl sat with greyish blonde hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. Her typing was the only noise filling the nearly silent space.

Roman led him down a short hallway with several doors then at the end of the hall there was a small square door, only big enough to fit one or maybe two people marked “LRPT.” Roman pulled out a key and pushed it into the knob, unlocking it. The door swung open and Roman crawled inside, followed by Logan, who took a deep shuddering breath then closed his eyes. This did nothing to reassure Virgil. He stared ahead at the tiny door trying to fight the tightening in his chest.

“I think I’ve gotten claustrophobia now,” Virgil muttered.

Thomas patted his shoulder. “It’s really not so bad. I’m right behind ya’.”

Mentally going over all the things that could go wrong, Virgil slipped inside the small door. He was met with smothering blackness. It didn’t help at all that the air was thick and damp- like a very humid day. Virgil crawled forward only to slam into the wall in front of him. He grunted in pain and felt along the wall, slightly relieved to feel metal bars that resembled a ladder.

With a deep breath, Virgil began to climb upward, trying to ignore his rapidly beating heart and the fear of falling and hitting the hard ground below. He could hear Logan coming in and beginning to climb as well. After climbing for a little bit, Virgil’s head slammed into the ceiling. He let out yet another grunt of pain then reached forward and felt around for something. A door or whatever. Finally, his hands felt a doorknob, which he was quick to twist and stumble inside.

Virgil breathed heavily, savoring the cool and unoppressive air of the small room he was in. A small guilty relief that he wasn’t the only one who got scared was brought to him as he noticed Logan was worse off; his head was between his knees, Roman’ hand on his back as he took deep breaths. A section of the wall, right behind where Virgil had entered, swung open and revealed Thomas who looked completely unaffected. The wall closed, leaving it back to looking like a normal section of the wall- as if there was no door.

“Aw, Logan,” Thomas said sympathetically. He walked over and gently mused Logan’s hair up a bit.

“I’m okay,” Logan gasped.

“Yup, you are,” Roman confirmed with a grin. “What’s for dinner?”

“Why’re you looking at me?” Thomas asked.

“Because I don’t feel like making anything.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I’ll go heat up some soup.”

“You’re an angel,” Roman said as Thomas walked out.

“Remember that!” Thomas called out.

Roman snickered. Virgil looked at Logan, who was breathing still a little heavily. He’d ran his fingers through his hair several times, only messing it up more and adjusting his glasses. Virgil thought Roman should reconsider his words on humans being fragile, because Virgil had never seen anyone look so fragile, exhausted and scared than Logan.

“You okay?” Virgil asked hesitantly, slightly nervous of Logan snapping at him. Virgil knew from experience that sometimes people asking if you were okay was the most annoying thing.

However, Logan just smiled and shrugged. “I just do not prefer tight spaces.”

“Yeah, they’re not much fun,” Virgil agreed. He sat down on the couch, fidgeting slightly.

“You should get changed,” Roman said.

Virgil looked up then frowned. “Huh?”

“You’ve been wearing those same clothes since you came. Probably smell by now,” Roman joked. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Come on, I’m sure some of my clothes will fit. If not, we’ll raid Logan’s room.”

Roman gestured for Virgil to follow. As he led him down the halls, Virgil realised just how massive the house was. Roman led him down several halls then into a room. It looked like a normal bedroom. Slightly messy, but overall normal.

Roman yanked open his closet and began digging around. “T-shirt…” He tossed a grey t-shirt at Virgil who just barely caught it. “Jacket…”

“Roman-” Virgil tried to speak as a jacket flew the air and slapped him in the face.

“And… Pants…” Virgil sighed as the sweat pants hit the floor near his outstretched arm.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Roman said with a smirk, then walked out of his room, shutting the door behind him.

Virgil groaned quietly then slipped off his shirt and began to pull the new t-shirt over his head. He paused, slowly lowering his arms as he felt a buzzing run through his head. It went away just as quickly as it came. Virgil sighed and closed his eyes.

He slipped off his pants and began to pull up the sweat pants when out of the blue came a feeling like water being dumped over his head. He gasped and collapsed onto the floor, pants still at his knees. Virgil groaned and struggled to sit up, but the feeling returned, so Virgil stayed still and hoped the feeling would go away.

Just his luck, the room vanished. He was in a field of entirely dead flowers. A dried up stream was a few feet away. Virgil couldn’t move; his body was paralyzed. Then with a small flash, there stood Bamidele.

“You’re a fool,” she said.

Virgil glared. “And why’s that?”

“You tore the paper- you destroyed it.”

“So? It’s gone now- that’s a good thing.”

“No it’s not,” Bamidele snarled. “Now I’ll never leave your head. Mark my words: I will make your life hell. In your worst times, you will remember me and be haunted by what you’ve done.”

Virgil tried not to be afraid, but there was something about standing in a dead and deserted field that wasn’t real with a sociopathic nutcase of a girl that made it hard to be unafraid. “You’re lying,” Virgil said, trying to hide the trembling in his voice. “You lie-”

“Oh no, I have lied many times. My lies are sweet and tasteful.” She smiled, her eyes beginning to glow. “But my truths are dark and terrible- but they are true.”

In a blink, the scene vanished and he was back to lying on Roman’ floor, looking like an idiot; pants around his knees and trembling violently. He heard Roman knocking on the door.

“Hey, dude, you okay in there?”

“I’m good,” Virgil called out. He forced himself to stand up and yank on the pants and pull the jacket over his arms. It should have been easy to do, but trembling made everything so much more work. Virgil took a deep breath and raked his hands over his face. It was all in his head. Who could really say it was real?

He adjusted his prosthetic, which had been forced into an uncomfortable position when he fell. Then he opened the door to Roman’ room and walked out. Roman had a big smile on his face that dropped as soon as his eyes rested on Virgil.

“Good God, you’re shaking.” Roman reached down and grasped Virgil’s hands. “What happened, are you okay?” His eyes seemed to bore into Virgil’s head. Virgil turned away.

“I’m fine.”

“No, don’t… don’t lie like that; I can read people better than that. What’s wrong?”

“I just... I just wanna go home,” Virgil whispered.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t really the truth either.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to just go for it and edit all of the chapters and then post them to get this story over with. I’ve reached a point where I genuinely hate this story. But I want the people who have enjoyed it to get to finish it. I’m also posting the rest to my AO3. I will be editing and finishing this story tonight, maybe also tomorrow if I cannot finish it all tonight. It should be about 20k in total.
> 
> I want to apologise profusely once again. I started this story when I was fifteen. It started as a One Direction fanfiction. It’s been literally years since I started this story and my style has evolved a hella lot. I just want to get this thing out of the way so I can move on. As I said, I’ve grown to hate this story. I want to finish it so I never have to look at it again.
> 
> Once again, I am so sorry. I never realised a story could fill me with so much guilt.

Roman seemed to have taken pity upon Virgil and didn’t interrogate him. He just slung an arm around him and walked back to the room where Logan was propped against a pillow sound asleep.

“Ugh, Logan,” Roman muttered with a sigh. He pushed Logan’s feet away then sat down. Virgil sat down next to him.

Virgil focused his eyes ahead of him, trying to ignore what had happened in Roman’ room, but it kept replaying in his mind. Were Bamidele’s words true? Or was she just bluffing? It terrified Virgil how different she had seemed. When he’d first seen her she was just a pretty girl that didn’t seem capable of being cruel. But now… she had completely terrified him.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, you’re thinking about it hard,” Roman said. He nudged Virgil gently with his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Mm…” Virgil shrugged, unsure what to say. “I just hope the whole thing with Rue works out and I can go home. My mom’s probably out of her mind in worry.”

Roman nodded. “Hey, mom’s worry. It’s their job.”

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Roman’ eyes scanned across Virgil’s face at which Virgil turned around, suddenly uncomfortable. “Is something else wrong?”

“Soup’s ready,” Thomas said peeking into the room. _Thank you, Thomas,_ Virgil thought.

“Should I wake him up?” Roman asked, nudging Logan slightly.

“Nah, let him sleep.”

Virgil followed the two back into the kitchen. The three sat at the counter and Thomas slid Virgil a bowl of some dark blueish-purple soup. They ate in silence until Thomas filed out, grabbing a thick book from the counter on his way. As soon as Thomas was gone, Roman pounced.

“Virgil, what else is going on? You look about to combust.”

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled. “You really know how to compliment a guy.” He scooped some soup and shoved it in his mouth, averting his eyes along the way. Roman’s gaze always managed to be quite unnerving with seemingly no effort on the other boy’s part.

Roman nudged Virgil with his fingers. “You can tell me if anything’s up, okay?”

“Okay.”

Virgil remained tense as the fingers moved to lightly squeeze his shoulder. “Okay, I have to go to my shift, but you can stay and do whatever; raid the fridge, go through my room… whatever. Just make sure Logan wakes up by twelve.” Virgil followed Roman’ gaze to a large clock hanging on the wall reading, “4:08 PM.”

“Okay,” Virgil replied, secretly thinking that it’s _four_ and twelve was hours away. How could Logan sleep that long? Well, Virgil could. His mom wanted him to get checked, because “It’s not normal to sleep all day,” she said. “It could be depression.”

That train of thought got him into wondering if fairies could get depression. How about getting just physically ill? He figured Patton could probably answer his questions if he asked, but he feared talking to Patton would lead to him busting out his secret and he didn’t want to do that. As much as he hated it, he was awful at keeping secrets, merely because he wasn’t used to having one to keep.

“You get that blank look in your eye a lot,” Roman commented. Virgil’s face heated as he realised he had been staring ahead at Roman the entire time.

“I just think a lot.”

“About what?” Roman asked. He grabbed a set of weird looking keys (they looked sharp as a common hunting knife), and a backpack, which he slung over his shoulders.

“Stuff.”

“Specific,” Roman noted with a laugh. “Bye, Virgil.”

Virgil gave a half-wave and said, “Bye, Roman.”

He watched Roman walk off and looked at the clock. 4:10PM. He sighed and decided he should probably start by taking a nap…

+++

With a startle, Virgil shot up. He was lying across a metal table, completely unrestrained in the middle of a room. He racked his memory, trying desperately to recall what had happened. Roman had left and he had looked at the clock, then… blank. It was a huge blank. A giant chunk, ripped from his memory and it was driving him crazy.

The room that surrounded the metal table was completely white with nothing around it; there were no doors or windows in sight. Virgil got down off the table and hissed in surprise at the chill on the floor. The jacket he wore was unzipped and the shirt underneath was stained with a dark brownish colour. A strange tugging pain alerted him when he bent over. With trembling fingers, he lifted up the shirt.

He nearly gagged at the sight. A nasty gash cut across his stomach. It wasn’t neat either; it was like someone who had drank fifty cups of coffee tried to do it. It was sewn up messily with _yarn_. Freaking _yarn_. Virgil’s chest heaved, which only tugged at the stiches and made then hurt even worse.

His pleading eyes met the ceiling, desperate for maybe… a ladder. Something miraculous. But the room was like the inside of a cube; it was completely sealed with no escape in sight. He briefly wondered if possibly he was dead. There could be no way that one could breathe in this place, could they?

“Hello?” he called. He walked to the wall and pushed. He kicked, clawed, screamed, cried and pushed until he was exhausted, his prosthetic had fallen off and he was aching all over. He fell back against the floor, panting and tears stinging at his eyes. Shakily, he shoved the prosthetic back into place, but it fit awkwardly, as if someone had messed it up just enough that it would no longer fit properly; as much as Virgil didn’t want to admit it, the smacking it against a solid wall might have had something to do with it.

He hated feeling so helpless and vulnerable. What could possibly have happened? He didn’t remember a thing. It was a feeling similar to the one he had felt when he woke up and found Rue missing…

_(I created a drug, which we gave you before sending you back to your home. It erases the memory of the moments spent here. It prevents people from coming back and getting hurt.)_

Virgil felt like his breath had been sucked from his lungs. Had… had one of them, one of the people he had _trusted_ , drugged him? A renewed sense of anger flowed through his body along with betrayal that beat harshly in his chest.

“Let me out!” he screamed. He sounded like a maniac; he didn’t care. “I know it was you, you… you _bastards!_ ”

A force slammed into his gut and he fell backward and slammed into the metal table. He groaned in pain as the white wall slid upward and in another instant, it slid back down.

“Crying does _nothing_ ,” a voice hissed. Virgil blinked through his fuzzy vision and saw a man standing before him. He nearly cried out in despair. It was the man from his dream, the one who had restrained him against a similar table to the one he’d awoken on.

“What do you want?” Virgil choked out.

“Only things you can provide.” The man smiled and pulled off a messenger back that he had around his body. He pulled out a pair of sharp scissors and Virgil tried to scoot backward, but the man grabbed his ankle. Virgil hissed in pain at the incredibly tight grip. “You don’t want to agitate your stiches,” the man said.

Chest heaving, Virgil compliantly stopped struggling. He allowed the man to roll up his shirt and pour some liquid over his wound. As terrified as he was, he couldn’t deny that the liquid soothed the fiery pain across the wound. The man cut open a packet covered in plastic and withdrew from it a thick cotton bandage, which he taped over Virgil’s stomach with a surprising gentleness.

Virgil stared in a mix between awe and fear at the bandage across his stomach. The man worked as if he were a professional; swiftly and efficiently. He even moved down to fix the prosthetic. Virgil couldn’t rip his eyes away as the man finished up, put the stuff in his bag, and stood up.

“I’ll be seeing you later,” he said. He turned around and Virgil noticed the huge wings on the man’s back. The wall slid upward and Virgil couldn’t even move in his state of shock as it quickly slid back down, the man leaving his line of sight. The words, “I’ll be seeing you later,” rang in his ears, like a warning.

He fell asleep soon after that for lack of anything better to do. When he woke up, the metal table was repositioned in the middle of the room and on top of it was a sandwich, a glass of lukewarm water and a bucket. After breaking down and eventually eating the food, his bladder cleared up exactly what the bucket was for. Humiliated and dehumanized as he felt, there were no other options.

The food gave him some extra energy, which he put into trying to pry the walls upward until his fingers were raw, numb and bleeding. Exhausted, he passed out again. He woke up with his fingers wrapped in gauze and the bucket and food tray cleared from the room. He ripped the gauze off and set to work once more at trying to pry the wall open. He even managed to break one of the legs off the table and used that as a makeshift lever.

It didn’t work. Nothing worked. Eventually he gave up, collapsed on the floor and prayed that he wasn’t going to be stuck there for the rest of eternity.

There was no way of keeping track of time; it could have been days or minutes. Virgil didn’t have a clue, but however long it was felt like forever. He tried to keep track of seconds, but eventually he’d grow weary and pass out or lose count. Both seemed equally horrible. His dreams were filled with Bamidele laughing and sneering, “I told you so.” When he’d wake up, the food and bucket were left in the middle of the room.

Finally, Virgil was awake when a woman walked in along with a man. Both wore tight black suits and their wings spread out from behind their backs, big and beautifully sinister, as if showing them off.

“Experiment five zero four; failure,” the woman said with a tight voice.

Virgil knew that was bad. He stood up and made to run towards the open wall, but the man grabbed his arm and shoved him into tight handcuffs that felt like ice against his skin.

They led (or dragged would be more appropriate), him through a long hallway and into a small room. They shoved him into a seat and injected him with something that made him feel disoriented and confused. Several different fairies came and asked him different questions, which he willing answered.

“What’s your favourite colour?” // “Dunno, I’ve always liked green.”

“Are you accustomed to harming yourself?” (The man looked at Virgil’s fingers.) // “Only when I’m trapped in a stupid white box.”

“Why did you cut yourself in the stomach?” // “I don’t remember. I don’t even remember doing it.”

He remained in a calming sort of haze until a familiar face made their way into the room, the rest of the people cleared out. Virgil watched on with wide eyes as Logan, in a dark navy suit sat across from him, holding a briefcase tightly. Logan sat down, clicked open the briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers.

“Virgil?” he asked, as if hesitant and adjusted his glasses nervously.

“What’s been done to me?” Virgil asked, trying to speak angrily, but he was so tired it came out as a whimper of a question.

“The plan went wrong,” Logan said; he looked so exhausted with his dark purple bags and drooping eyelids that Virgil felt sorry for him.

“The plan,” Virgil whispered. He remembered the plan. He just didn’t remember _completing_ it. “Did they mess with my memory?”

“I believe so,” Logan said. Logan’s eyes trailed over Virgil’s fingers then to his stomach. “They said that you hurt yourself quite a bit.”

“I don’t remember doing this,” Virgil said, lightly touching the still-sore wound on his stomach.

Logan nodded then shuffled the papers, awkwardly glancing the floor once in a while. “I have everything that happened right here. Patton helped me write it. It might help you remember.”

“Writing will help me remember?”

“It’s worth a shot.” Logan slid the papers over to Virgil with shaking hands.

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked, his worry for Logan increasing. He didn’t understand why he was so worried about someone he didn’t even know if he could trust anymore.

“I am well,” Logan said and smiled. “Read it and see if it helps.”

Virgil reached over and touched the papers carefully. He picked them up and began reading, glancing at Logan’s expectant eyes.

_15556769822103941_

Virgil frowned in confusion when he read the numbers. Then he looked up to Logan who didn’t meet his eye. With a cry of pain, Virgil reached up to his then-throbbing head. The world around him turned blurry and he began to remember as the events played like a movie.

_Virgil stood beside Thomas next to a gas station or what looked like one. Roman was bouncing nervously and Logan had his arms crossed as if the whole thing was a mild annoyance._

_“Be careful,” Roman ordered them. “And do not be seen, Virgil. Got it?”_

_Virgil gave a thumbs up. “You’re hiding around the dumpster,” Logan said. “If the guy leaves the little restaurant, press the button the walkie-talkie, but don’t say anything.”_

_Virgil nodded. “I know.”_

_“Go hide,” Logan ordered. “You’ve already been standing out here for too long. Go.”_

_Virgil made his way over to the dumpster and slipped in beside the huge piles of trash bags. He expected to be overwhelmed by the stench of garbage, but he was surprised to find it didn’t smell awful. He watched the three as they disappeared into the truck, wearing masks over their faces._

_The walkie talkie remained tightened in his grip as he looked again at the gas station/restaurant/whatever-it-was. A man was running towards the truck looking angry. Frantically, Virgil pressed the button and crouched lower._

_“Human!” someone shouted. Virgil’s head shot up and he saw a woman before him who looked terrified._

_“What?” Virgil asked. “No!” He shoved the walkie talkie into the trash bags and turned to run, but officers were running towards and slammed him into the pavement. He twisted and fought, blood pooling from his nose._

_When he looked up, gasping and coughing, he saw Roman’s mask being ripped off by the angry man and several officers cuffing him. Thomas and Logan were nowhere in sight._

_“Human is secure; prepare vehicle,” an officer shouted._

_He was taken into a large van where he was chained like an animal by his neck in the back. A guard stood a few feet away from him, as if scared Virgil was some rabid beast, ready to rip his throat out._

_Then a swarm of officers came in and Virgil knew he needed to act, even if he died in the process. He lunged toward the first officer’s belt and yanked a knife from his belt._

_The officer smirked. “That knife doesn’t work on fairies, boy.”_

_Screw everything. Virgil would rather die than lose against these fairies. He smirked back at the officer and drove it into his stomach and ripped downward._

_“Secure him!” someone barked. Gasping in pain, Virgil crumpled to the ground. Hands yanked at his arms and something injected into his elbow._

Virgil met Logan’s eyes and pushed his sweaty hair from his face. “Wow,” Virgil mumbled.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed.

“How did this number trigger the memory?”

“Patton wasn’t sure if it would work,” Logan explained. “It has something to do with the drug’s ability to repress memory and the number sequence is something that triggers the memory to be brought back to the forefront of the mind.”

“Where’s Roman? And Thomas. And-”

“Thomas and Patton are fine. Roman… He’s been contained.”

“W-what?”

Logan scrubbed his face. “Look, I- I offer you my greatest apologies. We have your dog. You… You can go home.” Logan’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

“Go home-”

“We’re breaking you out. I just need to wait for my signal.”

“Roman-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Logan said. “Please don’t.”

“Logan, I need to know… Please. What’s happening?”

Logan swallowed. “He is to be executed. They consider harboring a human an act of treason. Your kind is… they think you’re dangerous.”

“E-executed?”

“We’re not gonna let it happen, I assure you.”

“How?” Virgil asked as his nails bit harshly at the flesh on his knuckles. “How’re you gonna do it?”

“We’re breaking him out too. It won’t be safe for him in this world anymore.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

Logan took a deep breath. “Roman’s going back up with you.”

Virgil felt like his jaw dropped. Roman was a fairy, not a human. How on earth would that even _work_? And where would Roman go? Who would be able to take care of him in the human world? And what about Thomas, Patton, and Logan?

None of that came out except one word. “Why?” he asked.

Logan sighed and grabbed the papers, shoving them back into his briefcase. He stood up and looked back at Virgil. “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Virgil forced a smile. “You look too serious, Logan.” He hesitated. “Different than when I last saw you…”

“It’s been a hard month,” he said quietly. Logan pressed a button on the wall and walked out. No officers came back in; Virgil just sat at the table staring ahead.

_A month._


	10. Chapter 10

Virgil sat still and silent for a while, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up and made his way to the door and banged on it with his fists. Deep down he knew any guards outside wouldn’t let him out. Was this phase two of Slowly-Torture-Virgil-Into-Insanity? Well, if that was it, it was working.

He could have gone banging on the door for hours. With an extra bit of determination, he probably could go on for days. However, he was unable to keep track of how long he could continuously bang on the metal door, because it swung upon and Patton stood in the doorway.

“Patton-”

Patton held his hand out, an apologetic look on his face. He gestured to his lips, an indication for Virgil to shut his mouth. He held something that looked similar to a cell phone, except it was circular. He typed something into it, waited, then slipped it into his pocket.

“We will have time to talk later,” Patton said. The firm way he said the words along with the way his lips were slightly pursed let Virgil know that Patton was dead serious.

Lovely.

“What’s going on?” Virgil asked.

“I’m breaking you out.” Patton held up a pair of handcuffs (Where had they come from?), and made a spinning motion with his finger. Virgil turned around and pressed his wrists together. Patton moved to click the handcuffs, but they never made a sound. After a few too many seconds of silence, Virgil grew confused.

“Uhm…”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Virgil’s skin broke out into goosebumps when Patton touched Virgil’s wrists, his fingers moving to the knuckles and then to the ripped bandages. “I don’t understand why they gave you bandages. They don’t typically do that.”

Virgil swallowed. “Is that a good thing?”

“Maybe…” He didn’t sound convinced. “Logan would know better than me.” After another moment of silence, Patton finally snapped the cuffs on Virgil’s wrists. He placed on hand on his shoulder, then another on his upper arm. “Let’s go,” he said.

Virgil decided to never underestimate Patton again as soon as he gripped his arm; the boy had a grip like steel. They walked down several halls until they reached a door, to which Patton opened easily. Two female doctors stood, holding clipboards. One smiled at Patton, the other looked like she wanted to slit his throat.

“I’ll be performing the injection,” Patton said. He un-cuffed Virgil’s wrists and pushed him into a seat similar to one in a dentist’s office.

“I’ll get it ready for you,” smiley-doctor said.

Virgil closed his eyes and tried to trust Patton. Everything was under control. Patton wasn’t going to take a sledge hammer to the trust they’d built, would he?

Looking down, Virgil noticed Patton had rolled up one of Virgil’s sleeves and tied some blue strip around it.

“What’re you gonna inject?” Virgil asked, unable to stop himself.

Chick-who-looked-like-she-wanted-to-slit-Virgil-and-Patton’s-throats said, “Mute the human.”

“You can’t mute them, Sara,” Patton said with a sigh. The smiley doctor handed Patton a syringe filled with something black and sludgy looking.

“Be nice if you could,” Sara snapped back.

“It’s a chemical that shuts the pain-responders in the body down,” smiley-doctor explained.

“What-” Virgil tried.

Patton had already poked him with the needle and was injecting it into his elbow. “I need his-”

The door swung open and Roman stood, gripping an iron-plated water gun. Apparently, that was terrifying, for Sara dropped her clipboard and screamed. Smiley-doctor’s smile dropped.

“On the floor, the three of you,” Roman snapped.

Patton, Sara and no-longer-smiling doctor got onto their knees, hands in the air. It felt like something straight out of an action/comedy film. 

Bamidele chose that very moment to rip apart into Virgil’s head.

With a flash, the room was gone and he was in a small grey room in front of Bamildele who wore the most sadistic and terrifying grin.

“What are you doing?” Virgil snapped. He looked around the room to find nothing but grey walls, floor and ceiling around him. Bamidele grinned and sat on the floor.

“Making your life hell.”

“What?” Virgil snapped. “Good try, but it already was.”

“Woe the angst of a miserable teenager. But oh yes, I’ve been watching.” She smiled and this time, it looked almost scornfully kind. “Why is it, when left alone, you do your best to destroy your body?”

“I don’t,” Virgil hissed. “Now let me back into the real world.”

Bamidele put a finger against his chin and feigned a thoughtful look. “Hm… no.”

“Please?”

“Well, since you asked nicely… No.”

“Are you kidding me?” Virgil cried. “What is your issue?”

“You destroyed my weapon and now, I’m gonna make you regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

“What if I kill myself?”

“Oh wow, harsh.” Bamildele smoothed out her dress. “Can’t kill yourself here. In case you haven’t noticed, it’d be kind of hard.”

“So you’re keeping me here forever?”

“Nah, it’s funner to keep you in suspense.”

Virgil groaned and sat down. “How long are you going to do this?”

“Just long enough for little RoRo to worry. Oh- Look at the time.” She waved her hand. “Bye Virgil. Until next time.”

Virgil plowed forward, hands gripping his head desperately.

“What’d they do to you?” Roman asked from above him desperately. “Virgil!”

“I’m fine- I’m fine.” He forced himself to stand up and look Roman in the eye. “What do I need to do?”

Roman rolled his eyes, but that soft smile that was always there tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Always helpful, you are. Thomas and Logan are waiting for us around back. You just need to follow me.”

“I’m sorry I’ve caused so much-”

Roman took in a deep sigh and turned to meet Virgil’s eyes. “Trouble? You humans are always apologizing. Every single one I’ve snuck and saved and helped- they apologise. And I find it funny. None of it’s your fault.”

“Maybe a little,” Virgil pleaded.

Roman frowned. Then sighed. “Maybe a little.”

“Bamidele’s gotten in my head.”

“Go figure.” Virgil gaped. “I’m not a complete idiot,” Roman said. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”

Virgil followed as Roman began walking. The water gun remained in front of Roman, acting as an odd protection. It felt odd as they crept amongst the dark and empty hallways. Their footsteps felt too loud; their mere breathing seemed to be roaring in Virgil’s ears.

“They only carry weapons against humans, ya know?” Roman whispered, still walking. “They’re cocky. They think they don’t need protection from their own kind. Stupid, isn’t it?”

“A bit,” Virgil agreed.

They reached a door marked _Exit_ in glowing blue letters. Roman gestured for Virgil to pause then slowly opened the door. It led to a fenced-in yard. Just outside of the yard was a large hole.

“An open portal,” Roman whispered.

“Intruder!”

Virgil jerked backward in surprise as several armed men ran at them. Roman shoved the water gun out in front of him and pulled the trigger. A liquid, slightly magenta in colour, shot out. The stream slammed into one man’s chest and Virgil watched in horrified terror as the man’s skin melted off of his body.

The shock was short lived, as someone had withdrawn a gun and began shooting at him. Virgil hit the floor before any damage could be done just as Roman shot at the man and he fell victim. Virgil lost his sense of bravery and squeezed his eyes shut as he heard screaming and Roman shooting the last of the people down.

“Come on, Virgil. Not being cruel, but we don’t have time to freak out.”

Virgil let Roman yank him upward and then he went back to following Roman in a hazy sense of shock. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. Roman unlocked the gate then more walking.

“Where are they?” Virgil heard Roman mutter. Roman was pacing and kept adjusting the squirt gun.

“I’m so-” Virgil tried.

“Don’t apologise anymore!” Roman shouted. Virgil’s heart rose into his throat. After everything- hell and more that he’d been through, but a simple sentence in a loud voice did him in.

“What do you want me to be, a jerk? Unapologetic?”

Roman spun on him instantly. “Unmoved maybe. Even cocky. You humans are sentimental fools who feel sorry for everything!”

“Not all of us are like that! You oughta meet my father and maybe then you’d take that back!”

Roman gritted his teeth. “Well, I’ll get to meet him and your entire family, won’t I? And according to you, that’s all your fault, isn’t it?”

“Maybe it isn’t!” Virgil shouted. “I didn’t _ask_ to be thrown into this mess!”

“No, you didn’t,” Roman snapped. “Maybe you’re finally understanding what I’m saying!”

Virgil couldn’t think of what to say. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared into the skyline, which was slowly setting. Roman continued his pacing. “I wonder if we live under the same sky,” Virgil mumbled.

“Huh?” Roman finally stopped his pacing again.

“Humans- fairies. Is it the same sky?”

Roman burst out laughing. “Dunno, Virgil. Don’t think we ever will.”

“I’ve been nothing but an idiot the entire time I’ve been here- useless and whining. And now you have to leave because of me.”

“You’re only human,” Roman said slowly. “I don’t mean that to be an ass, but… you can’t do much here.” Roman sighed. “You know what this is, Virgil?” he asked, lifting up the squirt gun.

“No.”

“You humans call it Windex. To you, it’s a common house cleaning thing. For us, it’s deadly. If more than five tablespoons hits one bit of skin, our bodies literally melt away. It’s one of the ways we can die. I call humans fragile for having so many ways to die, but we can die just as easily. And really, with less effort.”

Virgil remained silent. Roman went on, “When I’m in your human world, I’ll protect you from everything and you have to protect me from Windex. Ironic.”

“A bit, yeah,” Virgil said.

“They need to hurry.”

“You wanna see them before we go, yeah?”

“Duh.”

“I get it…” Virgil kicked the grass around his feet. “I’d give anything to see my sister one last time before she died. Ya know, just at least to give her a proper goodbye.”

“Yeah. They’re… like brothers. Stupid, annoying brothers.”

Virgil looked up and noticed four figures running in the distance; three human-like ones and one dog bounding on a chain in front of them.

“They’re coming,” Virgil said, feeling his chest growing slowly heavier.

“I can see that,” Roman said. He didn’t sound as angry or impatient anymore- just a bit deflated.

“Sorry we-” Logan called, bounding up, panting. “We- we took- so- long.”

“Patton wanted to write a final love letter,” Thomas said. He didn’t look as annoyed as he sounded. He smiled at Virgil and handed out the end of the chain which had Rue at the end of it. “Hold tightly to her, man. Don’t lose her again.”

Virgil grinned. “I won’t. Thank you… for helping me.” He looked at each of them, not allowing his shyness to take over. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a problem, kiddo,” Patton said, which was nothing but garbage; Virgil didn’t point that out. Patton pulled Virgil into a tight hug and gently squeezed his shoulder. “I did uh- write you two something.” He handed a white envelope to Virgil and smiled. “I’m giving it to you, ‘cause Roman’d lose it.”

Virgil nodded. The rest exchanged hugs tightly with Virgil and Roman and some containing both. It was a moment Virgil wished didn’t have to stop; one he wished to never end.

“See you guys later,” Roman said. Nobody pointed out the obvious. Roman slipped his hand into Virgil’s and gripped it a little too tightly. “You got Rue?”

Virgil swallowed down the huge lump in his throat and gripped tightly onto the chain. “Yeah,” he choked out.

He’d dreamed of getting to say goodbye to his sister- all the time. It haunted him. But really, a happy last memory… One without the words goodbye… Maybe that was enough. In its own, messed up, odd way. Maybe nobody has to say goodbye to say goodbye. Goodbye kind of felt overrated. Virgil felt if he said it in any way, it would hurt worse. It would break his heart into pieces he couldn’t fix. So he settled for a half wave and an awkward teary smile to which the three returned.

“On three,” Roman said. “One.” Virgil closed his eyes, trying to ignore his shuddering chest. “Two.” Big breath. Pretend you’re not yanking someone who has become your best friend into a world that he might not even survive in. Don’t think of Bamidele or the other million issues- “Three.” Not another breath- can’t afford that.

Without hesitation, they jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally over.

**Author's Note:**

> *internal screaming* MARISSA, YOU FOOL, WHY START ANOTHER WIP???
> 
> Welp. Here we go. Pray for me, y'all. Ain't nothing wrong with me, I'm just stupid. -_-
> 
> Let me know what you think! Criticism, questions, comments... even your favourite recipe, is appreciated! :)


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